


Downpour

by PrincessDystopia



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Apocalypse, Betrayal, Bittersweet Ending, Cutesy, Drug Use, Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Jealousy, Love, Music, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Rain, Slow Burn, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 60,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessDystopia/pseuds/PrincessDystopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raiders, Super Mutants, maybe even Deathclaws...Remi knows she can handle anything the post-apocalyptic world can throw at her, but when a blue-eyed mercenary tracks her down for stolen cigarettes and caps, everything she thought she once knew is flipped upside down. Nothing, she learns, is quite what it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long Road Ahead

“You can't out-master the master, y'know.”

A soft, almost melodic thumping sounded near her ears. Rain pattering against the ruins of the roof or her own stubborn heartbeat, Remi couldn't tell. There seemed to be only one thing she was sure of in this moment and that was that he had found her. Within the walls of this sturdy church, the only place she'd ever felt safe, he had found her. 

Damn it all. 

“What is it?” he spat. Remi tried to focus on his figure, but in the shadows where he stood, she could only make out a pair of cerulean pools narrowed in a fierce glare. “Don't you have anything to say for yourself?”

Glancing past him, she searched the darkness desperately for the filthy backpack she called her own. Somewhere back there, somewhere along with the rubble and dust, was her backpack full of junk she'd taken from him not even a day prior. “Didn't think a couple packs of cigarettes and a dozen caps could mean so much to someone,” Remi commented bitterly, wincing at the duct tape around her wrists. It felt as if it was ripping away her skin little by little every time she so much as shifted her weight even an inch.

Remi's generous captor, who hadn't hesitated to use more duct tape than usual when he'd ambushed her, let out an irritated scoff and turned his back to her. “Habit I can't kick, I guess,” he muttered almost too softly for her to hear. Without a second thought, he yanked the backpack from the ground, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the door, kicking aside anything he found in his path.

“Wait! Wait!” she called, awkwardly stomping her bound feet against the wooden floor. One hand on the archway, he slowed to a stop and looked on the brown-eyed girl cautiously, as if she could actually cause any harm with her limbs bound. “You're just going to leave me here?!” 

Peering away, he took a moment to feign a thought. “Hm...yep.”

Anger flared through Remi. It was one thing to have the items she rightfully stole to be stolen back, but having the thief leave her for dead was a whole other insult. “Give me your name, asshat,” she growled, trying to work her sweat to her advantage against the duct tape. “That way I know who I'm looking for once I get out of here.” 

The sound of his laughter echoing off the walls did nothing but add to her ire. “Didn't think a couple packs of cigarettes and a dozen caps could mean so much to someone,” he answered in what she could only surmise was a high-pitched, half-assed shot at her own voice. Then, in a tone of his own, he added, “The name's MacCready. See you when you come for me.” Something about the way he said it gave away that he didn't expect to see Remi ever again.

MacCready had appeared like a ghost and he disappeared like one, as well.

Remi waited for what felt like hours for the crunching of his feet against the debris to quiet. In the meantime, she let out a relieved sigh. The rain (or her heartbeat – she still couldn't put her finger on it) had silenced. Once she was surrounded with nothing but the sound of her own breathing, she lashed out into a series of rage-induced flails against the tape. No matter how hard she rubbed her ankles together, or tried to pull her wrists apart, the tape held strong. Biting down hard on her bottom lip to hold back the shrieks of frustration, Remi ground the tape hard against her belt. Surely it had to catch on a piece of metal. If not, well, she thought, she was screwed. 

If only she'd chosen to just go home instead of making a pit stop at the church, MacCready wouldn't have found her. For the first time in so long, she'd allowed herself to become careless. In the Commonwealth, careless was something you couldn't afford to be. She'd just gotten lucky enough that MacCready had found her to buy herself some time. Just how in the hell _did_ he find her?

When Remi had stumbled upon him at the Boston Public Library, his snores had been so loud that she found herself genuinely surprised that he hadn't been killed yet. Had she been a Raider, his days would've ended right then and there. Fortunately for him, she wasn't. 

In defeat, she leaned her head against the wall behind her, twitching slightly at the pieces of paint flaking off into her hair. When she'd chopped it all off a month ago, she realized just how freeing it was. She felt everything that touched her neck and ears now, including the brisk cold air. As she'd watched the chucks of blonde locks fall into the sink, it was as if she was cutting off the darkest parts of her. With a chuckle of disbelief, Remi settled her eyes on the skeletal remains of the minister at the front of the church. What an honor to die alongside someone who once may have sought hope where she did, she thought. It was ironic, really, that she was going to spend her last breaths here. 

The main door creaked open and, for a split second, Remi accepted that her last breath was coming much sooner than she'd realized. As her heartbeat quickened, the absolute worst came to mind: Raiders, Super Mutants, Ghouls. But then, an almost familiar capped head poked out from around the corner and a groan of annoyance rumbled from her lips. 

“Not you again,” Remi whined. “Haven't you done enough damage?”

MacCready casually made his way over and stood directly over her for a moment before dropping down into a crouch. In the uncomfortable silence they shared, Remi couldn't tell if he was flaunting her backpack or deciding what he was going to do next. Then, as if nothing had happened between them, he brought his gaze down to her feet and back up to her face.

“What's your name?” he asked as if the two had been strangers that passed each other too often to not know each other's names.

Being eye level with him for so long gave Remi more than enough time to really get a good look at him. A chiseled jawline, narrow nose, and dark russet hair curling out from underneath his cap. MacCready looked as if he'd been through enough wars to last a lifetime; his piercing eyes seemed so tired, but everything else about him made her think that he couldn't have been more than a year or two older than her. 

“Eat dick and die.”

MacCready bowed his head, hiding the slight of his snicker. “I'm trying to help you out here, y'know,” he mumbled after his shoulders stopped trembling. Then, as quick as lightening, the tip of a switchblade was to Remi's throat, pressing just hard enough to make it feel as though her heart had plummeted to her ass. “What,” he whispered, glowering upward at the trembling girl, “is your name?”

At first, she couldn't remember, for the life of her, her own damned name. After twenty years of being called the same thing, you'd think it would stick in times of crisis. “I-I don't--” The sharp pain of the blade forced her to rethink her next choice of words. “Remi,” she exhaled. “I'm Remi.” 

“Remi,” MacCready repeated slowly as the point of the blade shrank back from her skin. She swore she could still feel it against her. Before she could realize it, the duct tape had been cut from her ankles and ripped off her skin. The pain and itchiness didn't hit until a few seconds later. “All right, _Remi_ , let's go. On your feet.” Paying absolutely no attention to her stutters of protest, he reached behind her, grabbed the back of her sweatshirt, and roughly yanked her from the ground. For a scrawny guy, he sure had some power in his arms. 

“Where are we going?” Remi demanded to know, pushing back against MacCready as he pushed her forward toward the doors. “Hey, quit shoving me, damn it! At least take that with us! Its the only weapon I have.” Jutting her chin toward her crowbar leaning against the wall not far from where she had sat, she dug her heels into the soft part of the flooring, hoping it was moist enough to collapse the wood. 

Sighing heavily in annoyance, MacCready, keeping one hand securely curled in her clothing, reached over and grabbed the dirty metal. “This thing looks like its been through hell and back,” he commented, nudging her toward the door. 

“It has. Where are we going?” She didn't feel the need to struggle against him any longer; there was really nothing she could do. Her hands were tied and he carried the only weapon she knew how to use. Instead, Remi kept her stride in front of him, pausing only when he opened the door for her. Only then did she notice the height he had on her. Him being a good foot and a half taller than her only set her thoughts in stone that, as the way things were, she really had no chance against him. Even if she tried to run, well...he _did_ sport a sniper rifle on his back. 

“That depends,” MacCready answered curtly. “Where are you from?” 

“Oh no,” Remi responded, twisting her body roughly so that he had no choice but to let go. 

She stood facing him, taking a quick second to focus on the large, white sign of the church. Surely at one point it had to say something, but years of damage and storms had worn the black letters down to nothing but “Hol...Mis...on...Congr...tion.” When Remi turned her attention back to MacCready, she noticed he'd been staring her down, waiting for some snippy comment. 

“Its so you can steal all my shit, right?” she prodded, lifting herself onto her toes so slowly that she hoped he wouldn't notice. The height really made a difference; something about taller people had always intimidated her and MacCready was one person she didn't want to feel that way about. “Well, I don't think so. I'm not taking you back with me.” 

“You sure do cuss a lot, don't you?” MacCready deadpanned. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was more than tired of her mouth, but it sure did make her feel better about their situation. “Look, I'm going to give you two choices. One, you can tell me where you came from and nobody dies, or two, you can not tell me and I leave you just as you are, and you might die out here. So, go ahead and pick.” 

He had a point. He had the advantage over her, so if she had any hopes of staying alive, she had to agree with what he wanted. For now. “Fine,” Remi spat, turning on her heel. “Diamond City. Unless you know your way around, you'd better follow me.” 

When she peeked back over her shoulder, she expected MacCready to had ditched the scene with everything she tried to steal and her crowbar. Instead, he stood there silently, his eyes locked on something over her head. Before she even had a chance to turn back around to see what he was staring at, he curled his fingers around her forearm and started sprinting.

“What the hell?!” Remi shouted, struggling to keep up with him as she avoided the random pieces of trash and rubble in the streets. “Slow down! Your legs are a shit ton longer than mine, MacCready!”

“Shh!” he hissed as they rounded a dented, rusted car. “Shut up for three seconds! Get down!”

Crouching behind the car, MacCready released her, dropped the backpack to the ground, and grabbed for his sniper. “What's going on?!” Remi whispered. She could barely hear herself over her heavy breathing and the sound of her heart hammering away in her ears. She wanted so badly to peer over the top of the car, but the look on his face shot down those urges. If she thought he was upset before, man, she thought, was she in for a surprise. 

“I see humans over here!”

The voice couldn't have belonged to a human. It was much too gruff and deep, even for a grown man. Remi's stomach churned painfully in fear as MacCready propped himself on the hood of the car and squinted through the sights of his sniper. She eyed her crowbar that he had somehow hooked around a piece of rope tied to his waist. 

MacCready opened his mouth, closed it, and returned to his crouch at her side. “Super Mutants,” he breathed, opening the chamber of his gun to count his bullets. 

“How many?” 

“I lost count at fifteen.”


	2. Home Sweet Home

“This is it. We're done for,” Remi hissed, trying her hardest to keep down the stomach bile that threatened to rise up through her throat. Relentlessly, she struggled against her bindings, still hoping that a miracle would shine through and they would just fall off. “Cut the rest of the tape, MacCready!” 

“No can do.” MacCready, who seemed a certain sort of calm, reached into the pack tied from his waist, fished out a handful of bullets, and began loading them into his gun. “Can't really run the risk of having you turn on me while I'm trying to take them down.”

Remi would have been lying if she said that the idea hadn't crossed her mind. She'd been considering it since the pair stepped foot outside the church. But now there was no way she would even try to attempt it. If she had any hope to survive the Super Mutants making their way closer, she needed MacCready. 

Opening her mouth to yell out in argument, Remi stomped a foot harshly to the ground, earning an almost comical sideways glance from her captor. “Did you really just do that?” MacCready questioned with a light chuckle. “I haven't seen someone _actually_ stomp their foot since...” As if his thoughts had completely escaped him, MacCready fell silent. 

Remi gazed upon him, watching as his features grew darker with every fleeting moment. His lips pulled into a tight frown – it was hard to believe laughter had just passed through them only seconds before. Just underneath the shadow of his cap, his brows furrowed together, giving the impression that he was much more menacing than he probably truly was. 

A gunshot yanked Remi from her absentminded stare. If the car hadn't been settled between herself and the grotesque creatures, a bullet would surely have been lodged in her neck. With a yelp of surprise, she ducked further toward the ground, desperately trying to wrestle the duct tape from her wrists. 

MacCready, who seemed as if the attack hadn't phased him, shut his eyes tightly for just a quick second before turning his head toward Remi. “Sorry I have to do this,” he murmured, his voice growing louder as more gunshots filled the air. Rising completely to his feet, he flashed Remi an optimistic thumbs-up. “Good luck! You'll probably need it!” Ignoring the look of absolute horror that had fallen over the girl's face, he grabbed the backpack, that had almost fallen forgotten in the midst of all the fear, and dashed from the safety of the car.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Remi screeched, watching as his figure disappeared down an alleyway. 

“Stop hiding, stupid lady!”

It felt as if time had stopped, Remi's body turned to stone, and everything she had ever worked for was all for naught. Breath caught in her throat, she began to feel her heartbeat in every part of her body, hammering away as the same thought echoed in her mind: she was going to die all because some jackass took off with her crowbar. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Remi whispered, trying to overcome the hysteria beginning to lash through her. She pressed herself against the cold metal of the car behind her, glanced around her surroundings, and counted down from three in her head before standing straight up and turning to face the Super Mutants. 

MacCready hadn't been exaggerating when he had counted their numbers. It was painfully obvious that there were more than fifteen of the giants stalking toward her, and it was more than painfully obvious that they weren't lacking when it came to weapons. Most of them carried massive wooden boards decorated oh-so-lovingly with rust-covered, pointed nails and blades. The others sported guns of different varieties, ranging anywhere from pistols to rifles to shotguns. 

It looked as if they came ready for an all-out war, not to fight a one hundred and twenty pound girl. 

Upon seeing her, the shortest Mutant of the bunch flung his head back toward the sky and burst out into a series of gruff laughter. “Stupid!” he called out. “Stupid! Stupid!” 

Wasting no time, Remi sprinted toward the horde, trying to steady her awkward paces. With her hands bound behind her back, she had underestimated how much it would throw off her balance. She was taking a risk doing anything, she figured, the way her situation was, but she had to get around them somehow. They were the only things standing between her and Diamond City.

The Super Mutants, having not expected Remi to face them head-on, staggered in confusion for a moment before regaining what little sense they had. Battle cries, gunshots, and laughter filled the air as Remi's much smaller body disappeared in the mass of hardened, green and gray skin. Spiked boards swung about, slamming into heads and shoulders, and nails and blades lodging into rough skin. 

In the midst of all the chaos, Remi sat crouched near the putrid feet of her attackers, trying her hardest to ignore the pain erupting throughout her body when they tripped over her or kicked her. Her stomach ached as her muscles remained tightened; her core was the only thing keeping her upright at this point. As she watched Mutant body after Mutant body fall to her level, either unconscious or altogether dead, she found a tiny smile growing on her face. Maybe this half-assed plan would work after all, she thought. 

Every ounce of hope Remi had for survival crumbled when a hand twenty times larger than her own yanked her from the ground and pinned her against a nearby bus. Her head slammed back against metal and a lingering ringing filled her ears. The Super Mutant's face blurred as she gazed upon it and as she tried to focus the sight before her, the beast bellowed in her face. The stench of rotted meat and feces wafted into her nose; Remi forced herself to stop breathing so she wouldn't puke.

“Stupid girl!” the Mutant yelled, increasing the constant ringing. “You want to die, do you?! Fine! I'll help you!” 

An iron clad fist raised in front of her. Remi let out a chuckle, half in hysterics and half in actual humor. The fist, she realized as her eyes fell on it, was the only thing that wasn't blurry. 

“You think this is funny?!” the Super Mutant barked. “You won't think so when--”

Blood splattered across Remi's face, just barely missing her mouth. She slid down the bus and fell hard onto her butt, her knuckles painfully scraping against the gravel below her. The Super Mutant that had been holding her slumped to the ground as well, but without a head. All around her, remnants of skull, flesh, and brain had been scattered in an explosion. 

Everything seemed to fall silent as the remaining Super Mutants turned their attention to their fallen comrade, slowly registering what had just happened. Then, as the atmosphere changed from confident to anger, guns raised to finish Remi off. Surely, the ground must have figured, she had killed their teammate. There was no other explanation except special eye powers. 

Before they could put an end to Remi's life, however, another Super Mutant head exploded, and another, and another, until finally, those that stood intact and had enough common sense decided to flee before they ended up like their brethren. Trembling and absolutely bewildered, Remi sat against the bus, too terrified to make a move. She didn't want to end up like the Super Mutant pieces all around her. 

“Hey!”

Ever so slowly, Remi turned her head to the direction of the voice. High on a nearby building, a man stood, waving his arm high over his head while holding a sniper rifle in his other. She squinted her eyes, trying to get a better look at him. “MacCready?” she whispered.

“You okay down there?!” MacCready called. “Wait! Don't answer! I probably can't hear you! Give me a second to get down there!”

It felt as if Remi had just only blinked. Before she knew it, MacCready was standing in front of her, gently curling his hands around her armpits to lift her to her feet. She let him, but intentionally became dead weight as she eyed her crowbar, which remained faithfully on his hip. With a grunt of effort, MacCready leaned her against the bus, crouching slightly to get a good look at her eyes. Remi dragged her gaze up to meet his.

“Remi?” MacCready murmured. She didn't seem her normal snarky self and for a moment, he was worried that a bullet may of ricocheted and hit her. As soon as her mouth opened, though, that concern was gone. 

“You fucking ass,” Remi hissed, her eyes narrowing into a glare. 

MacCready couldn't help it; a grin broke out on his face and he bowed his head, hiding the relieved smirk. “You really have a mouth on you, y'know that?”

As hard as she possibly could, Remi rammed her head against his shoulder, trying to shove him. “Was that your plan all along?!” she griped. “To use me as bait?! You could have let me in on the whole thing!” 

“I needed you to think I actually ditched you.” MacCready crossed his arms over his chest and let out a lengthy sigh. “If you knew I was going to cover you, you wouldn't have been so scared. They can smell fear, I think.” 

The last thing Remi ever wanted to do was admit that MacCready was right. Super Mutants couldn't necessarily smell fear, however. If that were true, she would have been dead long ago. Rather, they played on fear. It reassured them that they were doing a good job at toying with their prey before killing and eating it. To them, it was a game they often ended up winning. 

“Still,” Remi went on defiantly, “you could have let me know. It would've saved me a heart attack.” 

“Potty mouthed and dramatic,” MacCready teased, giving up on hiding the amusement written clearly on his face. “You're just the perfect woman, aren't you?” With a groan of irritation, Remi stomped from him, finally accepting the fact that she wouldn't be able to move her arms until the two reached Diamond City. 

Ignoring MacCready's laughter and consistent comments that he was only kidding and that she shouldn't be so upset with him, Remi trudged on through the guts spewed across the cracked road in front of her. She hated everything about this day, from beginning to end. She wished MacCready had never found her; she didn't even care _how_ he found her at this point. Anger had surpassed her curiosity. She just wanted him gone from her life. 

It wasn't long before the pair came across security guards paroling Diamond City. Most, if not all, knew Remi by name. They had long ago grown accustomed to her wanderings in and out of the city and treated her as if she was just another passerby. Today, however, was different. Today, Remi sported a sidekick and didn't hide the fact that her hands were taped behind her back. 

“Picked up a straggler, did you, Remi?” a guard joked, offering a lopsided grin. His face immediately fell when his eyes settled on her hands. “Hey, what's going on?” His gun lifted toward the two, forcing them both to a halt. 

“Easy, Darren,” Remi reassured him, giving a quick eye roll. “Just don't worry about it, okay? This guy is as harmless as a kitten, I swear.” She jutted her chin toward MacCready, who arched a brow. 

Eyeing her carefully, looking for any subtle hints that she was truly in danger, Darren lowered his gun. “If you say so.” As the two continued passed, he kept his finger on the trigger.

“As harmless as a kitten?” MacCready repeated once they were far enough away that nobody could hear their voices. “The last time I checked, kittens couldn't take down an army of Super Mutants.” 

Remi didn't reply; she kept her stare forward, focused entirely on the trashcans filled with flames. There were plenty of times when those were the only things keeping her going when she returned from her haphazard trips to the outside world, just to get away from the city life. Taking a moment to think back on those days, she shook her head slowly, instantly hoping MacCready hadn't caught sight of it. Luckily, if he did, he didn't comment on it. 

“Home sweet home, huh?” he did mutter as they passed through the chain link gate and hustled up the stairs. 

Diamond City was nothing but a low hum of dishes clattering and a radio playing somewhere in the distance. Most of the occupants slept during night hours, with the exception of those who found solace in the bar area of the Dugout Inn. Red, green, orange, blue, and yellow lights, strung about the buildings and hung on fake trees, brightened the city. 

“They do this once a year,” Remi informed MacCready as he stared in a daze at a lit tree settled atop Dr. Sun's office. “I don't really know why.”

“Christmas,” MacCready answered without hesitation. “I'd totally forgotten.” 

The word sounded familiar to Remi; she was sure she'd heard it once or twice before in her life. Maybe from her mother? Or maybe just from a neighbor? “What's Christmas?” Asking about it took effort. She didn't want MacCready to be the one to teach her about anything. 

MacCready craned his head downward at the girl. The lights danced about in his eyes and for a second, Remi found herself gaping at him. She'd taken notice of how blue his eyes were before, back when she wished the Super Mutants had offed him, but they never seemed quite as majestic as they did now. 

“Its a holiday,” MacCready explained, snapping Remi from her thoughts of how much his eyes looked like the sky. “People give gifts to other people that they like.” He scoffed, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I'd say its just a way to get free crap.” 

Remi waited for him to say more on the subject. She wouldn't admit it to him, but the idea of just giving away things because you liked them absolutely fascinated her. The last gift she remembered getting was a mirror from her mother. That was the day she realized she had the smallest gap between her two front teeth.

“Well,” MacCready continued, lifting his fist to his mouth and clearing his throat, “let's get a move on to your place so I can untie you. The streets around here get pretty dangerous at night.” They started once more, leaving the trees and their lights behind them. 

“You've been here before?” Remi questioned.

“A time or two. Its a nice little getaway from Goodneighbor, and Takahashi's noodles are to die for.”

Coming to Remi's home – a simple shack that blended in with all the other shacks around it – she began to feel a surge of excitement. It felt like ages since she'd been home, when it reality it had only been two days. She let out a sigh of relief at the thought of sleeping in her own bed again.

“This is it?” MacCready reacted, his voice full of disappointment. Lifting her head to glare at him, Remi felt her stomach twist at the tight of the deep frown on his face. 

“What?” she snapped. “Don't tell me you live in some mansion back in Goodneighbor, because I know they don't exist there.” As he reached down to cut the duct tape from her wrists, he shook his head. Remi twisted her wrists, wincing at the soft pops in each of them, and rubbed her skin with her palms.

“Its not that.” 

“Then what is it?” Remi dug deep in her pockets, praying that her key hadn't fallen out in all the excitement of the day. Fortunately, her fingertips pressed against the dirty metal. 

As she unlocked the door and pushed it open, MacCready shimmied his way past her, making his way inside her home. “I'm a little jealous, to be honest,” he mumbled, curiously gazing around at the couch and pantry set nestled against the wall to the left. Her bed sat directly in front of her, just begging to be laid on. “My place isn't as big as this.”

His confession caught Remi off-guard. She was fully prepared to say anything to defend the shack she'd spent the last seven years building on her own, but when he said the exact opposite of what she was expecting, she could only reply with a quiet, “Oh.”

Pulling the backpack from over his shoulder and onto her table, MacCready hurried to unzip it. “Anyway,” he went on, completely changing his tone to that of a happier one, “time to split up our loot, right?” 

Yet again, he confused Remi. “What? That's all your stuff,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. 

MacCready shrugged, sifting through the cigarette packs. Eventually, his hand curled around one that didn't look any different from the others. “I'd say we made a pretty good team back there with those Super Mutants, so we both deserve some of this. Besides,” he opened the top of the pack, reached in with his pointer finger and thumb, and pulled out a tiny, wooden figure of a man, “this is all I wanted.”

Pushing it in his pouch, he zipped up Remi's backpack and laid it on the floor next to the table. He grabbed the crowbar and handed it to her, urging it gently when she just stood there in pure astonishment. All that, for a toy. Slowly, she reached up and took hold of it, letting her arm dangle lifelessly at her side. Opening the door to her shack, MacCready stopped to look back at her, flashing another smile. 

“Merry Christmas, Remi.” 

Then, he was gone.


	3. A Wolf Comes Knocking

“Why aren't you eating?”

Remi lifted her gaze from the untouched Noodle Cup that had been sitting in front of her for the past who knows how long. It had stopped steaming somewhere in her absentminded staring, growing cold and inedible. Beside her sat a brunette beauty, who had joined her at some point. 

“Stalking me again, Piper?” Remi questioned, swiveling in her stool to face the woman next to her. “How long have you been sitting there anyway?”

Giving the younger girl a sympathetic look, Piper Wright lifted her shoulders in a quick shrug. “Oh, you know, just the entire time you've been trying to see your future in the noodles.” Setting her elbow on the counter in front of her, Piper cupped her chin in her palm, watching her friend carefully. “Seriously, Remi, what's going on with you? You've been spacey ever since you got back from your last venture out into the real world. Three weeks is long enough. Time to come back to reality.” 

Had it really been three weeks since Remi's encounter with MacCready? _MacCready._ The name sounded so sour as she repeated it over and over again in her mind. He almost seemed like a dream, as did the last three days after he left. Everything, everything she did – eating, drifting in and out of sleep, avoiding the obvious notes and letters piling up in her mailbox – seemed like it never truly happened. In many ways, Remi compared it to being drunk, which had only happened a few times in her life. 

“I'm all right,” Remi answered, offering a lopsided grin. “I just haven't been sleeping well.”

And there it was – the incredulous narrowing of the eyes Piper often did when she knew a story was complete and utter bullshit. Whether it be that Remi wasn't the best of liars, or the fact that the two had known each other for nearly five years now, Piper saw through her facade. 

Clearing her throat, Remi turned from Piper. “I picked up your latest article from Nat this morning,” Remi stated, swirling her bent fork around in her noodles. Takahashi hovered directly in front of her on the other side of the counter, waiting patiently for her to order another bowl like she normally did, but she kept her gaze on her hand. Although she had forced herself into another topic of conversation with Piper, Remi was only half committed to it. Part of her mind was wandering, trying to picture how many Noodle Cups MacCready could eat.

Piper dropped her stubborn demeanor as her mouth twitched into a proud smirk and she propped her elbow on the counter top. “What'd you think about it?” she eagerly questioned. “Crazy, right? Could you imagine being frozen for 200 years only to wake up to your family gone?” 

Remi didn't want to admit it, but when Piper's younger sister had practically hurled the newspaper into her hands, Remi had taken it home, absentmindedly dropped it on her table, and there it remained. Taking one glance at Piper's dark eyes, almost matching the same color as her own, filled with so much excitement forced a short pang of guilt inside her. 

“Yeah, pretty crazy,” Remi murmured, praying that her friend wouldn't ask her any detailed questions.

“Before I started traveling with Nora, I had to admit that I was worried about her,” Piper prattled on. “But I haven't seen anyone handle a rifle like that in a long time.”

Piper's voice eventually fell to a low hum of words as Remi's mind pictured the way MacCready handled his own weapon. The way he was just so calm and collected – it was as if the sniper rifle had been just another appendage that he'd been born with. If only Piper had been there when he took down those Super Mutants, she wouldn't be going on and on about whoever this Nora person was. As much as Remi didn't want to admit it, MacCready was the only reason why she sat here with Piper, ignoring her stale noodles, instead of being strewn across the Commonwealth in little parts, or inside a Mutant's belly. 

“Is that where you were for the past month?” Remi asked, unsure if she had cut Piper off in the middle of her sentence. “I was starting to wonder if Mayor McDonough had kicked your ass out again.”

Piper rolled her eyes, taking a moment to sneak a quick peek in the direction of the mayor's office. “He did,” she replied simply. “That's when I ran into Nora.” Once again, the reporter flew off into another speech, and once again, Remi's thoughts traveled elsewhere. She made sure to listen to some of the important things Piper said, like how she and Nora had been on the search for Nora's son, but mostly Remi just nodded and pretended she understood every single word. 

In her peripheral, Remi spotted Piper's mini clone, Nat, huddled with a group of children that seemed to be either her age or a few years younger. Together, they tossed rocks at the side of an old warehouse, trying to see who could make the biggest dent in the discolored concrete. One of the smallest of the group, a redheaded boy who had always been too sky to actually approach Remi, stopped upon seeing her sitting so casually with Piper and lifted his arm in a wave for her attention.

Remi pretended as if she didn't see him. Out of all the younger children to come and go from Diamond City, Nat was the only one who didn't make her feel awkward and uncomfortable. All the others, with their sticky hands and ear-piercing screams, made her squirm away. Sometimes she felt bad when all they wanted to do was play silly, simple-minded games with her. More often than not, however, her disgust overpowered her guilt. 

“I should probably get going,” Piper said just as Remi came back to focus solely on her voice. “I'm still trying to teach Nat to cook. It's not going very well. See ya, Remi.” Standing to her feet, Piper gave Remi a quick squeeze of the arm, called for her sister, and walked toward her office, the two hand-in-hand. Remi watched the pair until they disappeared behind the metal door, a small, but lingering sense of longing in her chest.

“Yeah. See ya.”

(~)

Too crowded by her mattress, a rusted fridge that had never been full, and a sturdy kitchen table cornered by two chairs, Remi's home was her pride and joy. Having been paying for it by herself for the last seven years, it was the last good thing she had. It served as a perfectly sized safe place just for her, and the last place she'd seen the smile of her mother.

As Remi closed the door shut behind her, finally quieting all the noises of the nightlife of Diamond City, she let out a sigh of relief. There was no denying that she genuinely cared for many of the people in the city, but she cared for her alone time more. Just one conversation could leave her feeling exhausted and yearning for her house, or a tidy, silent dark building. The Holy Mission Congregation had, at one time, been that place for her, until MacCready tore it down by finding her. 

Lying back on her mattress, Remi intertwined her fingers behind her head, catching small clusters of her hair in the spaces, and shut her eyes tightly. It still bothered her even three weeks later, the fact that she had been found so easily. In all her years of going to that church to pray, she'd never seen a single soul there with her. But to have MacCready find her and then encounter a team of Super Mutants? It was just a downright invasion of privacy. 

She wanted to be angry with MacCready. Sure, it wasn't as if she was being very secretive with where she was, but for the love of all things good, he could've at least waited until she was finished praying, at least. Yanking her backward by her shoulders and immediately putting a hand over her mouth to muffle her yelps of surprise was just rude and, quite frankly, unnecessary. 

There was another thing poking at her curiosity and that was that MacCready was able to somehow track her. She'd always been so careful to not leave any sign that she had been somewhere. Had he been somewhat awake when she stole from him? No, there was no way someone could fake the snores that had been rumbling from his mouth.

With a groan of frustration, Remi sat up just in time for a knock to sound at her door. Her eyes immediately settled on the clock hanging on the wall. Nearly nine in the evening. The only people to ever visit her this late were Nat and Piper, but something about the hint of urgency in the knocks gave Remi a suspicion that it wasn't either of them. 

She advanced toward the door and stood on her toes to peer through the peephole. Dressed in his usual gray suit, Mayor McDonough stood at her doorstep, his hands clasped patiently in front of his rather large belly. 

“Good evening,” he greeted as Remi pulled he door open. “I hope I didn't wake you.”

“You didn't. What can I do for you, mayor?” 

Remi's relationship with Mayor McDonough had always been positive. He had known her mother in the months before Remi was born and had watched her grow in the young lady she was today. As long as she supplied him with enough caps to cover her rent every month, there was no reason to have any bad blood. 

Lately, though, the mayor of Diamond City seemed to have changed. Before, in passing, he had always greeted Remi by her name. Thinking on it, she hadn't heard his voice say the word in a very long time. Showing up like this late, even, was odd for him. He had always conducted business visits during the daytime. Now, it didn't matter what hour it was; the complaints of residents waking up at the sound of his knocking in the middle of the night had stuck in Remi's mind. 

Remi blamed it on the fact that he was growing old. Taking care of Ester, an elderly woman in her nineties who lived alone just next to Remi, for so many years gave her a new perspective when gray hairs start poking up. Sometimes, Remi had learned, the elderly forget names of people and objects and, in one case where Ester had called the young girl a “delusional bitch,” how to apply verbal filters. It just meant Ester needed more love and care, which Remi was more than happy to give. 

“Can we talk inside?” Mayor McDonough inquired. “The wind is picking up out here.”

Remi really had no choice. Scooting to the side, she pushed her door open further. As the mayor walked past the threshold, two more bodies appeared. “Darren?” Remi murmured, locking gazes with her friend. Darren, a gun glued to his hand once more, gave a quick nod.

“Evening.”

The other security guard looked absolutely terrified as he hurried after McDonough. Remi didn't recognize the scarlet hair poking out from underneath his helmet, or the hazel eyes darting around her home. A new trainee, she figured. But why did the mayor need security to visit her?

Taking a seat in one of her chairs, McDonough brought a fist to his mouth to clear his throat. “I was looking over my records today,” he said slowly, as if Remi was a toddler, “and I noticed something a bit...peculiar with your rent statements.” 

Remi's heart felt as if it had dropped. She knew she was three months behind on rent, but times were rough for her. Hardly anyone needed odd jobs done around Diamond City anymore and if they did, the pay wasn't worth the labor. “Yeah, I know, but I--”

“You're trying. I know,” McDonough finished for her. It wasn't quite was she was going to say, but his vice sounded so soft and understanding that she decided to just go with it anyway. “But I've given you enough time to pull something together and you've shown me nothing. I'm sorry, but I'll need you out of the house by this time tomorrow.”

Her body frozen, Remi stared the man down before glancing at Darren. It made sense now. McDonough needed the security just in case Remi decided to fight back against his decision to evict her. He had brought Darren along as a personal attack. He knew the two had been friends for a few years and he knew there was no way she'd turn against him. What a low blow, she thought spitefully. 

“You're kidding, right?” Remi hissed, rolling her eyes. “You're really kicking me out? Just where the hell am I supposed to go?”

“The Dugout Inn has a few roo--”

“Fuck the Dugout Inn!” she shouted, probably waking Ester. For once, Remi didn't care. She was furious. “You'd rather see me living in an inn than my actual place?”

“Please be reasonable, miss,” the timid security guard muttered. Remi didn't think. She picked up an empty cigarette box that had been lying forgotten on the table and hurled it at his head. 

“FUCK YO--”

Completely knocking the wind out of her, Darren's massive body slammed her into the wall. She gasped for air, grabbing at his dirty uniform. “Calm down,” he whispered firmly in her ear, too quiet for the other two to hear. “I don't want to have to put a bullet in you.” Darren waited for her to stop squirming against him to take a step back. 

While she caught her breath, Remi sat against the wall, her eyes narrowed in a hateful glare at the mayor. “You really think...this place is worth two hundred caps...a month?” she gasped. “You're high if you do.”

“Whether it is or not,” McDonough retorted, “isn't the issue here. The issue is that our agreement called for two hundred a month, and you've failed to uphold your end. You have twenty-four hours. I'm being quite generous here. I suggest you take it while you can.”

Without another word, the mayor nodded to the security guards and took his leave from Remi's home. Darren took a step after, but hesitated for just a moment. “I'm really sorry about this, Remi,” he muttered softly. He wasn't lying; there was too much contrition in his eyes. “Look, if you need somewhere to stay, I can--”

“Save it,” Remi snapped, avoiding his remorseful stare. “I don't need your help or your pity.”

Letting out a long, exhausted sigh, Darren shook his head. “You really need to quit being so prideful and actually accept someone's help for once.” He didn't wait for some sort of bitter reply. Instead, he tipped his head in a small nod and followed the others.

(~)

“Where are you going, dear?”

Trembling, wrinkled hands reached out to caress Remi's face. The young girl swallowed hard, trying to force the lump down her throat as she stared into Ester's amber eyes through the tears in her own. As soon as they fell, shriveled thumbs were there to wipe them away. Remi sniffled, placing her own hands on the woman's. 

“I'm going away for a little while,” Remi replied, her voice thick. “I'll be back to check on you from time to time, okay?” 

Without a home in Diamond City, and no caps to stay at the Dugout Inn, Remi didn't want to stick around, especially in a city under the greedy thumb of Mayor McDonough. Maybe she was just dramatic, or maybe she was right in leaving. Either way, just the idea of staying around, homeless and hungry, didn't sit well with her. 

Living with Ester was completely out of the question. Somewhere, the old woman had a daughter who supplied caps for her mother to live in Diamond City as compensation for never visiting. If word got back to her that Remi was hiding out in the same place, all hell would break loose. Remi had met the daughter once and once was more than enough. If she ever saw the lady again, it would be much too soon.

As much as she wanted to take Darren up on his offer, Remi couldn't. Her pride as well as the fact that his wife didn't care much for her held her back from ending up at his front door, begging for a roof over her head.

“Piper will be here, too,” Remi continued. She had given up on trying to stop the tears. “So, if you need anything, let her know.”

Ester, who often peered at Remi as if she was just looking through her, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You are the greatest part of my life,” she whispered against Remi's skin. 

Inside Remi's chest, her heart felt as if someone had curled their fingers around it and tightened them so hard that if felt as if the organ would pop. She hated Mayor McDonough for ruining all the good parts of her life, but she hated herself more for not trying harder to earn caps. She knew that she had nobody to blame but herself, but damn it, putting some of the blame on McDonough eased some of the situation. 

Remi stood from her crouch, gave Ester's hands a soft squeeze, and made her way out of the shack. Diamond City seemed so oddly quiet just before the sun peeked over the walls. Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, she strode past Takahashi, who she was sure was trying to sell her a Noodle Cup, and between Publik Occurrences and the Mega Surgery Center. 

Saying goodbye to Ester was the hardest part. Everything else – packing what little she had and explaining the situation to Nat and Piper – was a piece of cake. Mayor McDonough's visit had completely turned around her view of Diamond City. If the leader of such a large group of people could turn sour, so could his followers.

Standing at the top of the concrete stairs, Remi turned to face the city one last time. Raising both her middle fingers in the air, she turned her head and spat on the ground. “Fuck you, McDonough!” 

It was Goodneighbor or bust.


	4. Unexpected Help

Remi had only been to Goodneighbor once in her life, and she had been much too young to even remember it. She'd heard stories, however, of the terrible things that happened on the dark, dirty streets. She'd also heard stories of all sorts of creatures being welcomed there and, in the most positive of rumors, being taken in as just another member of a large, dysfunctional family. As Remi trudged through the debris and makeshift fences shielding Diamond City from the rest of the Commonwealth, she figured that a place like Goodneighbor would be good enough to find work until something else came along.

_Until something else came along._

That seemed to be the motto to her life.

Passing the security guards on duty, the girl kept her head down and her face hidden well enough (she hoped) in the shadows. Still, they called her name and asked where she was going. Remi was the only Diamond City resident (well, former resident) who traveled in and out of the city on a regular basis. 

“Oh, don't worry,” Remi called back, figuring there was no point in ignoring their calls; it would only raise suspicion. “I'll be back in a few days. Just another boredom trip!” There had never been any trips taken to the Commonwealth from sheer boredom. The guards seemed to believe her lie; they simply nodded at her words and waved her on. 

Tightening her fingers around the straps of her backpack, Remi pulled it close to her backside. The further she walked from Diamond City, the less protection she had. Even though her crowbar remained tied securely at her hip, rhythmically tapping against her leg at her strides, she began to wonder – at the echoes of gunshots somewhere in the distance – if perhaps leaving during the night was a bad idea. There was no turning back now, though. Just the thought of returning to that godforsaken place made her blood boil.

So, she kept on.

(~)

“ _I love those dear hearts and gentle people who live in my hometown._ ”

Remi's already aching feet came to a halt the moment the song flew into her ears. Diamond City Radio played loud, the noise bouncing off the buildings that surrounded her. Although it wasn't one of her favorite songs, Remi found herself softly singing along as she searched for the source. Rain clouds were gathering, and so she needed shelter. Desperately. 

“ _Because those dear hearts and gentle people will never let you down._ ” 

Finding anything in the dark seemed nearly impossible. Everything looked like black blobs of shadows. More often than not, she couldn't tell if something were a mailbox, or a living creature. Even so, Remi wandered the streets, hoping that the music would lead her to something of promise. 

Rounding the corner of a building, the windows and entrances boarded with decaying wooden pallets, the young girl settled her eyes on a small, flickering flame, holding strong against the growing storm gusts. Inside her chest, Remi's heart began to patter away in staccato as she picked up her pace toward the flame. A jagged, square-shaped shadow around the flame suddenly had personality: a broken dresser, a dusty mattress, chipped coffee cups, and a radio all settled in an old one-car garage. 

“ _I feel so welcome each time I return,” the radio sang on, “that my happy heart keeps laughin' like a clown._ ”

Finally, Remi thought, something was starting to work out for her. Placing her backpack down against the flimsy wooden porte-cochere, she let out a long sigh of relief. She'd made it to shelter just in time; droplets of rain were beginning to litter the ground. She took a moment to glance around, taking in everything she'd found. 

Whoever made this place either left in a hurry, or was planning on returning. Remi hoped on the former, though she knew she couldn't stay long herself. Eventually, Raiders or Scavengers or even worse, a group of Rust Devils, would make their rounds nearby. Lately, those groups that often stuck to small towns and farms were becoming more partial to the city life. 

There was a click of a gun cocking, and Remi's body turned to ice. 

“The fuck you doin', girl?”

Like her mother had taught her her so many years ago, Remi raised her hands above her head and slowly turned to face the source of the deep, angry voice. Holding a shotgun aimed right for her stomach, a stout, balding man stood not six feet from her, his finger resting on the trigger. 

“Just trying to get out of the rai--”

“LIAR!” he boomed. Remi flinched back, trying her hardest to keep her breathing even. In through the nose, out through the mouth. She couldn't afford to hyperventilate and pass out here. “You was tryin' to steal my Psycho Jet, wasn't ya?”

Psycho Jet? Remi had never heard of it in her life. Sure, there were people who used Psycho and there were people who used Jet, but never combined into one drug. 

“N-No, I wasn't,” she stammered. She prayed that this man wasn't so fried in the brain that he'd realize she really didn't mean any harm. “I don't take chems. I-I just needed to get out of the rain, I swear.”

“Hmmm.” With a violent twitch of his neck, the man lowered his gun, his glossy eyes trailing Remi's body up and down, up and down, up and down. He sniffed thickly, turned his head, and spat something large and deep green onto the wood shielding them from the rain. “Nah, don't believe ya.”

As he raised his gun again to pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out. Remi screamed, covered her eyes with her hands, and fell back onto her butt. She waited for any pain or the voice of her mother telling her that everything was going to be okay now that she was dead, but only the lyrics of the song coming from the radio met her heavy, ragged breathing.

“ _That's why I want the world to know I love the gentle people._ ”

Her arms like stone, Remi brought her hands away from her face. She stared at the man, his body lying crumpled on the ground in front of her. Blood trickled a hole between his shoulders, where his head had been. A shadow shifted in her peripheral. Staring her down, a sniper rifle in his hands, was a Raider, twitching with his own possible drug addiction. Rain dumped on him, completely soaking his clothes and the mask covering his face, but still he stood motionless.

“ _Because those dear hearts and gentle people will never let you down._ ”

“You can have his chems!” Remi shouted, hurrying to her feet and grabbing her crowbar. All the while she was staring down the barrel of a gun, her weapon had remained forgotten. But now, she knew she could take a Raider. She'd done it before, although she didn't kill the woman. It had been strange, really, the way the redhead had suddenly lowered her baseball bat, sighed in annoyance, and took off in the other direction mid-fight.

This Raider, though, simply tilted his head to one side. Then, as if he couldn't control his movements, he advanced toward Remi, nearly knocking her to the side as he rummaged through the dresser. It didn't take him very long at all to find the leather bag. Remi wondered if he could smell the chems, if years of drug abuse gave him some kind of superhuman nose. 

The Raider didn't say another word to her. He twisted the opening of the bag into a tight knot and turned his head toward her. Through the mask, Remi could see that one eye had been sewn shut while the other, a soft hazel, surveyed her curiously. As if she didn't peak his interest, he turned, gripped the bag tighter, and carried on, leaving Remi to wonder what the hell had just happened. 

“ _I love the dear hearts and gentle people who live and love in my hometown._ ”

(~)

Instead of staying in the safety of the garage, Remi pressed on. She didn't want to have to stare at the body of the man who almost shot her anymore, nor did she want to move it so she didn't have to stare at it. Until the rain stopped, she camped in a hallowed out car, covering her ears the best she could to block out the noise of the drops slamming against the metal frame.

Goodneighbor wasn't far from where Remi had stopped, but she considered waiting until the sun crawled over the skeletal remains of the buildings. She felt so tired – a mixture of lack of sleep and being certain death was upon her left her feeling physically and emotionally drained. She didn't want to exhaust what little energy she had left, but once she dozed off for an hour and woke up to find that the rain had stopped, she forced herself from the car.

Splashing along in puddles and kicking rusted, bent tin cans along her way, Remi's thoughts traveled back to the Raider. They were known for showing no mercy when it came to people who had lost their way, especially females. Growing up, she, as a young girl, was taught to fear them, that they wouldn't think twice about kidnapping her, raping her, and killing her. In her mind, she'd always pictured them as ruthless, brainless humans wandering the Commonwealth for chems, but from her last two encounters with them, that image was beginning to falter. 

When Remi finally came to a bright neon light reading “Goodneighbor this way!” with a large, blinking arrow, her pace quickened. Before, she'd just been following dingy, worn signs that pointed her to her next direction, not even sure if they were pointing the right way. Finding that they had indeed been telling the truth gave her a new sense of hope. 

Ignoring the growls and barks from the dark corners of the streets, Remi began to sprint, nearly skidding to bruised knees once or twice. Goodneighbor was so close, she could practically smell it. It was either that, or someone was lighting up a cigarette just behind her. She slowed to a stop, though, when a simple sign propped against a lamppost and a mailbox came into view. 

“All are welcome,” she whispered, breathless from her running. Glancing past it, she saw one more sign, with a blue arrow pointed to a metal door. “Goodneighbor. Finally.”

On the building opposite the door, posters littered the wall. Scantily dressed women decorated the torn papers, advertising some kind of bar drink Remi had never heard of. Passing by them, excitement rose in her. Maybe, if she could get her hands on a few caps, she'd have to try these drinks. 

She pushed the door open with a grunt of effort. It certainly was a lot heavier than it looked, but once she was through, she grinned to herself. With its stench of cigarettes and cooking meat, its lazy residents lounging on the streets and broken benches, and its immediate smile of welcome from a female Ghoul, Remi knew the past three hours and the death threat had been more than worth it. 

“A new face,” the Ghoul murmured, setting her broom against the wall. She dusted her hands off on her pants before reaching over to curl her fingers around Remi's chin. Gently, she moved the girl's head side to side. “Pretty as hell, too. Don't tell me you're here to sell yourself.” 

“Sell myself?” Remi repeated slowly before realizing what exactly that meant. “Oh, shit, no. Not at all!” She shook her head, freeing herself from the Ghoul's grasp. Apparently taking no offense to it, the Ghoul grabbed for her broom once more and returned to halfheartedly sweeping the street. 

“Pretty girls like you don't just come to Goodneighbor for the hell of it. There's got to be a reason.” 

Awkward tension filled Remi's chest as she realized that the lazy street dwellers had suddenly taken an interest in her. Heads turned, a few stood up, and one even started to make his way over toward her, only to be smacked in the knee by the Ghoul's broomstick. 

“You sit your ass back down,” she grumbled, reaching in her pocket. Remi's heart plummeted when a switchblade replaced the broomstick in the Ghoul's hand. “I swear it, Jorge. I'll take you down right here.” 

Jorge, who looked as if he were about to shit himself, held his hands up the way Remi did with the crazed, drugged man. “All right, all right. Shit, Daisy, I just wanted to say hi to the new girl here.” He flashed a sad attempt at a seductive wink and lower lip lick before the Ghoul, Daisy, bluffed a stab at him. This seemed to be more than enough to get the point across that he wasn't welcome in their conversation. Rolling his eyes, he returned to the group he came from, who proceeded to stare Remi down. 

As if it were an everyday thing, Daisy folded her switchblade, pocketed it, and returned to her sweeping. “If you ain't here to sell yourself, you might want to reconsider,” she advised gravely. “You'd have plenty of customers.”

Suddenly, Remi wished she'd just stayed in Diamond City to live on the streets, begging for food and water. “No, that's okay,” she murmured uncomfortably. “I'm actually here for any other kind of worse, besides that kind. I lost my home in Diamond City, so--”

“Diamond City, you say? Well, join the club.”

Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Remi found herself craving a cigarette. Along with the stench of it in Goodneighbor, and the fact that her conversation had taken an extremely unpleasant turn with Daisy, all she wanted was to feel it – to feel _something_ – between her lips. 

“If you're lookin' for work, I could always use some help around my shop,” Daisy continued. “I won't pay you much, but it'll be something, at least. And it'll be a roof over your head.”

The offer sounded nice, really nice, but the thought of living with someone she just met five minutes ago didn't settle quite right with Remi. “Thank you for the offer,” she said, “but I'm also looking for someone. He told me his name was MacCready.”

This seemed to spark Daisy's attention. Looking up from her sweeping, she chuckled softly. “Oh, I see,” she replied. “You one of Robert's newest flings, aren't you?” 

The look of sheer bewilderment on Remi's face must've been amusing to Daisy, because her laughter grew stronger. Who in the hell was Robert? And why was Daisy laughing? Looking past the Ghoul, Remi noticed one of the residents, who must've overheard, stifle a fit of her own giggles.

“You might want to check out The Third Rail,” Daisy suggested, jutting her chin toward a dark alley. “He hangs out there a lot.” Giving Daisy a nod of gratitude, Remi began toward the direction she was led, holding her backpack closer to her than she ever had before.

As she passed residents and drifters alike, she received a variety of acknowledgments. Some lifted the corners of their mouths into small smiles, some narrowed their eyes in intimidating glares, and some just pretended she didn't exist. She preferred the ones who looked through her; at least they didn't see her as a target or a threat. 

The Third Rail wasn't as far from the entrance of Goodneighbor as Remi originally thought. Guarded by an armed Ghoul in a dirty suit, it stood as one of the tallest and well-maintained buildings in the town. A glowing sign hung above the door, telling Remi that she'd found the right place. Once she made her way inside, however, she instantly began to doubt herself. 

Aside from another Ghoul dressed in a clean, black and white suit, she was the only one there. “Oh, another dancer?” the Ghoul questioned, motioning toward a staircase leading downward behind him. “You'd better hurry. Magnolia doesn't like when her dancers are late.”

Remi wanted to correct him, to say that she was the furthest thing from a dancer. Her body just couldn't keep up with songs. From the determined look in his eyes and the way he stood proudly before the staircase, she figured going along with it was the only way she'd get inside. She nodded toward him, just as she did with Daisy, and hustled down the stairs. 

The Third Rail wasn't quite what Remi imagined. Hell, she didn't even know it was a bar. As she descended further down the second flight of stairs, the smell of cigarettes became more intense. She figured that the smell on the streets wafted from this room alone. Couches and chairs supported all sorts of people who just casually lounged in them, listening to the silky voice coming from a beautiful woman singing on a stage near the bar, where a Mr. Handy robot floated behind. 

Some people lifted their tired gazes to look at the newest customer, but for the most part, Remi remained invisible. Near the foot of the stairs, a tall man stood, his armor and gun giving away that he must've been a guard. His eyes settled on Remi as she walked closer to him, and his finger found its way to the trigger. 

“You a dancer?” he questioned.

Remi shook her head, deciding that lying at this point wouldn't do her any good. She had already gotten in, after all. “I'm looking for someone. MacCready, or...Robert?” The name sounded strange on her tongue.

The guard glanced around the corner. “A new fling, huh? He's back in the VIP room.”

“What the fuck is with the fling shit?” Remi hissed to herself as she made her way toward the flashing red sign that read “VIP.” 

She knew that she should've turned back when the two mannequins that met her around the corner nearly scared her out of her skin, but still, she wanted to find MacCready. The further down the extensive hallway she traveled, the dimer the lights fell. Then, finally, as she reached the VIP room, she understood why everyone assumed she was another fling. 

MacCready sat on a couch, a half-naked girl at both his sides. His arm looped around their shoulders as they leaned into him, one taking a drag from a cigarette and the other taking a swig from a beer bottle. Remi's legs suddenly felt as if her bones had disappeared. She wanted to turn and run, but one of the girls, a blonde, had spotted her before she could.

“Who the fuck are you?” she questioned, sitting up from MacCready's arm. “RJ, do you know this girl?” She sounded almost jealous that Remi had showed up out of the blue. “You promised it was just me and Felicia tonight.” 

The other girl, a brunette with extremely large breasts, gave MacCready a gentle slap on the chest. “Yeah, you promised,” she pouted. 

Obviously drunk, MacCready ignored the complaints of the girls at his side. His glossy eyes remained locked on Remi, who wished she had the ability to disappear into thin air. Taking a small step back, she nervously laughed and glanced around the room, realizing what this place was. Holding back a shutter of disgust, she forced a grin onto her face. 

“Sorry, wrong room,” she said, feeling a bit less awkward at the relieved looks on the girls' faces. “I'll just be going.” Remi turned on her heel, resisting the urge to sprint down the hallway. Instead, she quickened her walk into an almost jog. 

The sound of MacCready's voice forced her to a halt. “Remi, wait!”

Having legs that were much longer than hers, it didn't take him long to catch up with her. When he did, his fingers curled around her arm and gently yanked her to face him. Remi gave little resistance; she didn't want to talk to him here while he was drunk and right after she found him with a couple of women, but at the same time, this was the reason why she came all this way. 

“What are you doing here?” MacCready questioned. He didn't sound angry or irritated that she was here. Deep in his tone, Remi could've sworn he sounded almost apologetic. 

“I'm in trouble and I think you're the only one who can help me.”


	5. Of The People

“Yeesh, you really weren't kidding. My place is – was way bigger.”

“Hey. It has personality.”

MacCready was definitely right about that – it did have personality, but what sort of personality it had left Remi wondering. Much like hers, the tiny bricked building held a bed, a lopsided table decorated with cigarette butts and empty booze bottles, and a single chair struggling to stay upright. The only thing that seemed clean about the place was an off white refrigerator, a metal cooking stove, and a counter space only big enough to prepare one thing at a time. If anything, MacCready seemed to value keeping his food area clean more than anything else in his home, which Remi could understand. Food was important; sleeping and having somewhere to sit...not so much.

However, unlike her former home, various children toys seemed to have been thrown in the corner: stuffed teddy bears, wooden alphabet blocks, and colorful plastic spaceships. Sneaking a quick second to give the cluster a closer look, Remi noticed a coat of dust that had settled over them. They obviously hadn't been touched in quite some time. 

“Let me guess,” she commented as she pulled her arms from the backpack straps to place it on the table, “part-time babysitter when you aren't off chasing floozies?” 

Although she meant it mostly as a playful jab, MacCready's drunken stare lifted to her face as he cracked open a can of dingy water. Exhaling sharply, he threw the water back into his mouth, his face twisting in disgust. “Something like that,” he answered once the water was down his throat. “So,” sitting on the bed, he let out an annoyed sigh, “what'd you say about Diamond City?” 

During the speedy trek from The Third Rail to MacCready's home, Remi had spouted everything from losing her home to fretting about Ester, all seemingly without pausing to breathe. In his drunken state, MacCready had only retained a fourth of what she had said, but now that he was home and able to focus solely on her, he could feel himself sobering up enough to sincerely listen. 

“That damn mayor kicked me out,” Remi spat, taking a seat in the chair, wincing as it squeaked against her weight. “I fell behind on my rent and I guess he finally noticed. So, now I'm broke, hungry, and homeless.” 

MacCready's glazed eyes lingered on her, his mouth not moving. He sat staring at her for so long that she wondered if he actually heard anything she said, and if maybe she should repeat herself. 

“Did you unders--”

“And this is my problem, why?” MacCready didn't mean to sound quite so pissed, or to cut her off for that matter. Five million thoughts were rushing through his mind all at once and keeping his attention on the girl in front of him was proving to be slightly more difficult than he thought it would. 

Inhaling through her nose, Remi placed a hand on her stubborn bouncing leg. “I just...I don't know,” she admitted, choosing her words especially carefully. “I thought that maybe you had good connections here and you'd be able to get me some work. After that whole Super Mutant thing, I'd say it's the least you can do.”

“Super Mutant thing?”

“You used me as bait.”

“I used you as a distraction. There's a difference.” 

Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Remi curled her hand into a tight fist in her lap. Maybe tailing after MacCready was a bad idea after all. She just couldn't stand how irritating and combative he was acting. When she thought on it, he made her feel the same kind of bitterness that McDonough had put her through. If her stomach hadn't interrupted with a pleading growl, she would've continued arguing with him all night. 

Taking notice of the noise, MacCready's mouth lifted into an amused smirk. “Let me guess,” he said, attempting to use the same tone Remi had used earlier, “you haven't eaten since you left the city.”

Remi glowered at him. It was as if he were mocking her, she thought. Of course she hadn't eaten since she left; it wasn't as if she could just sit on the sidewalks and enjoy a nice dinner. “I didn't have time,” she hissed, jaw clenched. 

Keeping a hand propped on the wall beside him, MacCready pulled a cabinet door open, grabbed for a discolored box, and squinted diligently at it. “You like InstaMash?” he questioned as he began to rummage through the same place he'd taken the box from. 

Upon hearing the world “InstaMash,” Remi's mouth began to water. Next to Takahashi's Noodle Cups, the silky mashed potatoes were her absolute favorite food. “Yeah,” she meekly replied, watching as MacCready poured two cans of the same water he'd used before into a pan. “It's okay, I guess.”

“Well, they'll have to do. I don't have anything else.”

After flicking a lighter toward the burner of the cooking stove six times, MacCready huffed in relief as a small, struggling flame lit underneath the pan. He dumped the yellow powder into the water from the box and returned to the bed, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. As she did with the box of InstaMash, Remi watched in absolute lust as he took a long drag, closed his eyes, and forced clouds of smoke through his nostrils. 

She hated asking him for anything, but at this point, she figured, she was in too deep. The guy was cooking for her, for hell's sake. “Could I--”

“Here.” Extending his hand toward her, MacCready offered another cigarette. “I've never had someone stare at me like that when I smoked. It's a little creepy, to be honest.”

Taking the cigarette from his grasp without hesitation, Remi felt her face heat in embarrassment. MacCready held the lighter toward her. She wrapped her hand around his knuckles to steady his slight tremble and closed her eyes in gratitude as he flicked the flame. His skin was so warm against hers and as much as she wanted to keep her hand there forever, she eventually leaned back into the chair again, savoring the feeling of the smoke intruding her lungs. 

“So, about work around here,” Remi started, clamping the cigarette between her pointer and middle finger. “Do you have anything in mind that I could do?” She took another deep drag only to cough it all out at MacCready's next words. 

“You can't stay in Goodneighbor.” 

Taking a moment to regain her control of her anger, Remi stared him down, her feelings only worsening as he returned the stare. “What do you mean?” she finally asked, ignoring another stomach rumble. 

MacCready seemed to know her body just about as well as she did. Lodging his cigarette at the corner of his mouth, he stood and made his way toward the stove once more. “The only work someone like you is going to get around a place like this is prostitution. Trust me on this.” He turned his back to her and stirred the pot with a dented ladle. 

“Someone like me?” Remi urged, flicking her ashes into one of the empty beer bottles. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Again, MacCready let out a sigh of annoyance. Remi was really beginning to hate that sound. “Look,” he muttered, leaning his back against the counter and taking the cigarette from his mouth, “I'm just going to lay this out there in the open. You have a nice body, and your face isn't bad to look at either. You'd have dozens of skeezeballs falling over themselves for a chance to pay money for five minutes with you.”

As flattering as that sounded, Remi only responded with a curt scoff, an eye roll, and a quick, stealthy rub of her tongue against the gap between her teeth. “I think you're being a little dramatic here.” Casting a curious glance toward the stove, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer the InstaMash was going to take. 

MacCready snuffed out his cigarette against the bottom of his shoe, apparently catching her eyes on the food. “Those girls you saw me with,” he murmured darkly, pouring a generous glob of potatoes onto a beige plate, “they came here four months ago, looking for work like you. And now I'm starting to think I'm the only person in Goodneighbor they haven't slept with.”

As he placed the plate in front of her and returned to his seat on the bed, Remi gave him a bewildered look. Those girls had certainly seemed like they had slept with him, or were about to. However, as she dug into the mountain of potatoes, Remi decided against questioning it. It wasn't any of her business, after all.

“There's a place I know that you could go,” MacCready explained, resting his elbows on his knees and entwining his fingers together. “I have a friend there – a few, actually. They'll put you to work in exchange for a bed and a roof over your head. Sanctuary Hills – ever heard of it?”

The name sounded familiar. Remi remembered a few residents of Diamond City discussing it as she aimlessly roamed the streets. A settlement, they called it. Maybe even the next Diamond City. Remi had always laughed behind their backs at those words. There was no way that another place like the city could be built. Now that Sanctuary Hills seemed to be her only option, Remi nearly choked on the irony. Or was it the InstaMash?

“Heard of it,” she confessed after a hefty swallow. “Never been there.”

“It's still pretty small; only about seven or eight people. We can leave first thing tomorrow. I don't like traveling at night.”

Mouth full of another heaping of potatoes, Remi simply nodded, yet her mind raced. MacCready didn't like to travel at night, but when he had found her at the church, it had been well past midnight. Had he just been dead-set on retrieving his stolen things? Whatever it was, she didn't think on it much longer. MacCready, she figured, was someone she was going to end up spending quite some time with between Goodneighbor and Sanctuary Hills. She had more than enough time to figure him out. 

Before long, with a belly finally full, Remi found herself curled up on MacCready's bed underneath a thin blanket that smelled faintly of gunpowder. Nearly every muscle in her body throbbed with a full ache and falling asleep seemed impossible. Only when MacCready gave up on trying to light another cigarette and returned to the makeshift bed he'd halfheartedly put together in the corner of the room did Remi finally close her eyes and drift off. 

She dreamed of the Raider with the hazel eye.

(~)

It wasn't the usual chatter from the streets that woke Remi up. It wasn't the scent of freshly prepared Noodle Cups wafting through her home and into her nose. It wasn't even the echoing banging at her door from Nat trying to force the latest article of Publick Occurrences down her throat.

It was a gunshot. And it was right outside MacCready's house. 

While Remi frantically sat up in the bed and scanned the room for her crowbar, MacCready let out an exhausted groan and pulled his own blanket over his head. “Get the fuck up!” Remi snarled as she hopped from the bed and yanked his blanket off. “Someone's trying to kill us!”

She was met with resistance from the drowsy man below her. Pulling the blanket back toward himself, MacCready argued, “Nobody's trying to kill us unless you decide to stick your nose into whatever is going on outside.” As quickly as she had taken it from him, MacCready had taken the blanket back and shielded his head with it. “One more hour and then we'll go.”

“Oh, hell no,” Remi muttered, grabbing for her backpack. Back in Diamond City, she had never heard gunshots so close to her. Any punishments for crimes were carried out in private. But here, well, Remi couldn't argue with MacCready about not being able to stay. She certainly wasn't going to sit around, twiddling her thumbs, while he slept for another hour either. “I'm going now!”

While she gathered her things, MacCready let out a long, noisy yawn and bunched the blanket up underneath his head to watch her. “Okay, good luck trying to find your way. There aren't any signs to point you in the right direction like there are with Goodneighbor.”

Remi was fully aware of this fact, and she was fully aware that she should've listened instead of hoisting her backpack over her shoulders, arming herself with her crowbar, and pulling the door open. With a sharp gasp, Remi nearly tripped over herself. Not even ten feet from the door, lying motionless in a pool of her own blood, was the blonde girl from the night before. 

A shriek of protest drew Remi's attention from the corpse. Coughing and laughing maniacally, the other girl who had been hanging on MacCready struggled against two guards as they dragged her toward a dark alley. Remi took a step back, only to jolt in surprise as her backpack bumped against MacCready's chest. 

“You're fucking next, RJ!” the girl hollered, ignoring a harsh slap across the face by one of the guards. “Do you understand me?! _You're fucking next!_ ” 

“We'll wait an hour,” MacCready repeated, placing a hand on Remi's to pull the door to a close once more. “Psycho Jet is one hell of a drug.”

(~)

“So, what's with the whole 'RJ' thing?”

“What?”

“Why do people call you RJ? That's nothing close to MacCready.”

Once the pair had left MacCready's home, Remi saw that it was as if nothing had happened only an hour prior. If it hadn't been for the enormous bloodstain splattered on the pavement, she would have just assumed that it was another normal day in Goodneighbor. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The moment Daisy waved them off from her shop and the town was far behind them, Remi immediately felt the anxiety disappear from her body. 

“You really think MacCready is my first name?” MacCready joked, nudging her shoulder playfully. 

Returning the nudge – she was really just trying to knock him into the nearest car – Remi shrugged and raised her brows. “Well, I guess!” she answered, her voice dripping with feigned hostility. “You never told me otherwise.”

Closing one eye and pressing the other to the scope of his sniper, MacCready surveyed the large open area of the city they had just wandered into. Inside her chest, Remi's heart started beating slightly quicker, but calmed when he lowered his weapon. “You didn't stop to think that MacCready was a weird name?” he suggested, lifting a fist to his mouth to stifle a soft yawn. 

“I don't know. I don't really know what falls under the category of weird names.”

“Well, yours does. I've never met another Remi before.” Upon seeing the girl's frown, MacCready offered a sideways smirk, causing Remi's stomach to flip. “It's not a bad thing. I like your name. It's unique.” 

The two fell silent, both lost in their own minds as they strolled from the massive buildings and piles over overturned, rusted cars. As Remi gazed out at the hills growing in the distance, she wondered to herself why they hadn't been ambushed. The cities were notorious for dangerous gangs and yet nothing met them as they continued toward Sanctuary Hills. Her thoughts shifted in a snap – had MacCready just complimented her _again?_

MacCready, on the other hand, only repeated the same self-induced embarrassing question: “Did I really just say that? _Unique?_ Smooth, man, smooth. Don't say another word until we get there, you idiot.” 

“So, what is it?”

“Huh?” 

“Your name. What does RJ stand for?”

“Oh, uh, it stands for Robert Joseph.” 

Remi had known a Robert once before and she'd known a Joseph once before. Both were boys who teased her about her gap as young children and she despised them equally. She never knew what happened to them after they had moved from Diamond City, but in her highest hopes, Super Mutants tore them to shreds. “Robert Joseph MacCready, huh?” she concluded, pressing her mouth into a thin line. “That sounds like a more believable name.” 

Far off in the distance, thunder boomed in caution, though the skies remained blue. The hair on Remi's arms rose as she came to a stop and turned her head in the direction of the noise. Her heartbeat grew louder and louder until suddenly, it sounded like someone was banging a drum in both her ears. 

MacCready dragged his feet to a halt and glanced back at her, confusion written clearly on his face. “What's up? You okay?”

“It's going to rain soon,” she replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. 

“Probably.” MacCready turned his head, noting the gray clouds advancing toward them ever so slowly. “It's been raining on and off for the past few weeks.” 

Suddenly, Remi broke off into a sprint, rushing past him before he could realize what in the hell had just happened. Without any explanation, his only option was to keep up with her, which was proving to be easier than he thought. She didn't run very fast and, thanks to the smoking habit they shared, she became winded much sooner than he did. 

“What the hell, Remi?!” MacCready barked as he stood at her side, struggling to breathe a bit himself. 

“We have to find shelter,” she wheezed. Remi's fingers, he noticed, dug roughly into the sides of her jeans at the knee, almost as if she were trying to claw at her skin through the fabric. “I hate the rain. I really can't stand the shit. We have to find somewhere to stay until it passes.” 

Shaking his head in disbelief – how in the world could water falling from the sky freak someone out so badly? – MacCready started his pace again. “Okay, okay,” he said, throwing his hands up. “C'mon. There's a rundown shack over here I've slept in a few times.”

Trembling, Remi followed him so closely that she stepped on the backs of his shoes more than once. A five minute detour led them to what must have been a shed at some point. Oil had long ago stained the wooden floor and dusty tools still hung on the walls. It was obvious that MacCready had been here before; wrappers of candy bars and empty beer bottles littered the corner. With no windows, the only thing that separated them from the outside world was a metal door that creaked harshly as Remi yanked it closed. 

Catching their breaths, the two sat on opposite walls, one watching the other curiously. “What was that about?” MacCready demanded to know. “And I'm not just talking about the rain. Don't think I buy your 'looking for work' act. You could've gone anywhere. Why Goodneighbor? And why did you come looking for me?”

Remi exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. She had always thought herself a fantastic liar, but obviously MacCready was more skilled at it than she was. It took a good liar to know a good one. Still, she couldn't tell him. Not yet, anyway.

“I just needed a place to stay,” she told. “At least until something else came along.”


	6. Glass Doors

MacCready didn't snore like he did the first time Remi had caught him sleeping. With the thought in her head, she realized he didn't snore back in Goodneighbor either. In fact, he was silent, with the exception of soft mumbling. She couldn't make out anything he said, but she could sworn she heard, “Lucy.”

Remi had never watched a man sleep before. She found it fascinating, the way he had knocked his cap from his head sometime during the night without waking himself, revealing thick russet hair that left Remi wondering how he kept it looking so clean in a world where everything was tainted. With one arm shielding his eyes from any sort of invasive sunlight and the other resting on his rifle across his chest, it was as if he didn't turn from his backside the entire night. 

It wasn't as if Remi stared at MacCready as his body finally fell still and his breathing slowed. She'd just happened to glance in his direction before closing her own eyes. 

She decided to give him a few more minutes of undisturbed slumber before she would violently shake him until his lids fluttered open. Pulling herself to her feet, Remi lifted her arms above her head in a stretch and cracked open the dented mental door.

Outside the shack, the damp weeds and earth smelled sour – the kind of sour that reminded Remi of singed hair. Beside the sight, feel, and overall existence of rain, she hated the stench of it the most. It made her stomach churn every single time it wafted into her nostrils. 

“Enjoying the view?” came a sleepy voice from behind her. Remi turned her body and peered sideways at MacCready as he leaned halfway outside the shack and pointed to nothing particular in the distance. “So, over there we have a beautiful view of a pile of tires and over that way is a gorgeous rust heap that may or may not have been a car at some point.” 

Rolling her eyes, Remi tried to hold back a toothy grin, but ultimately failed. “C'mon, princess,” she teased, delicately slapping his shoulder with her palm. “We have somewhere to be.”

“Ugh. _Please_ don't call me that.”

(~)

Sanctuary Hills, Remi came to learn, was a lot larger and busier than she imagined it would be. As she and MacCready trod across the sloppily repaired wooden bridge that led them over a trickling stream, two heads poked out from over a makeshift barrier surrounding the diminutive hill in front of them.

Before she could process what was happening, two guns rested atop the tall fencing, pointed right at her and MacCready. The latter grabbed hold of her wrist and held it upward beside his. “Chill out! It's RJ!” he called, his voice echoing off into the distance. When the guns remained in place, he huffed impatiently. “The girl's with me!” Only then did the heads disappear and the rickety gates squeaked open. 

Remi yanked her arm from MacCready's grasp as they started forward. “I'm not a girl,” she spat defiantly, eyeing the two figures that stood motionless before them. “I'm a woman.”

“Whatever,” MacCready hissed under his breath. “Do you have to argue about everything?”

“Only when you're wrong.”

As they approached the guards, Remi realized one was a woman about the same height as herself. A brunette beauty, her chocolate eyes scanned Remi up and down twice before her mouth opened. “You know better than to bring anyone here without Preston or Nora's permission, RJ,” she scolded, keeping her finger rested on the trigger of her gun.

Nora? Remi had heard that somewhere before. Although not an uncommon name, she couldn't remember any that she had met personally before.

“That's why we're here,” retorted MacCready. “Where's Nora?”

“Not here,” the other guard answered curtly. “Hasn't been for a week.”

MacCready's reply came out as sharp and as bitter as he could manage. “Then go get Preston. I don't feel like beating around the bush with you idiots all day.”

After a moment of hesitation, the woman turned her back to them and disappeared behind the fence. Remi clasped her hands behind her backpack, trying to ignore the awkward silence between the three of them. She gazed longingly at MacCready as he brought a cigarette to his mouth and lit it. As much as she wanted to ask for one, she felt as if she'd relied on him too much already and decided to keep her own mouth shut.

Lost in her thoughts, Remi turned her head toward the way they came. She hoped coming to Sanctuary Hills wasn't going to turn into a mistake and that not everyone within the fence were like the two guards. It wasn't as if she feared having her feelings hurt – she just didn't want to be kicked out for doing something about it. 

After what felt like an eternity of standing around and waiting, the female guard returned with a man in tow. With dark skin and eyes, he sported an outfit unlike any Remi had seen before. Much to her relief, he smiled right before he took MacCready's hand in his with a firm shake. 

“Robert,” he greeted, his voice reminding Remi of the suave singers she often heard on the radio back in Diamond City.

“How's it going, Preston?” MacCready gave Preston a single pat on the back with his free hand.

As the two chattered on, Remi focused on Preston's tone. It was so silky and smooth; she was actually a little disappointed when their conversation fell flat and they turned their attention toward her. 

“And who's your friend here?” Preston questioned. 

MacCready opened his mouth to reply, but Remi beat him to the punch. “I'm Remi,” she said. “I'm...Well, I was from Diamond City.” She paid no mind to the odd look MacCready had cast her way.

“Well, Remi, my name is Preston Garvey.” He held a hand out toward her. Placing her palm against his, she noticed the strong, and yet pleasingly gentle grasp his fingers held around her. “I'm going to assume the fact that you were from Diamond City is the reason why you're here.”

Remi nibbled on the inside of her cheek as she thought over her next words. “Will it look bad on my part if I say I got kicked out?”

She didn't quite expect Preston to laugh at that. “Of course not,” he assured her and jutted his chin toward the inner workings of Sanctuary Hills. “Come on, I'll give you a tour.”

(~)

MacCready kept his stride at Remi's side, muttering too low for anyone but her to hear. “Why was it so easy for Preston to get a name out of you, but when I tried, it was like pulling teeth?” Much to her surprise, he genuinely sounded bitter about it.

Remi turned her head toward him, acting as if she were peering at something in the distance. “Because Preston wasn't holding a damn knife to my throat,” she shot back.

“Fair enough.”

As the trio walked up the cracked, weed-infested road that split Sanctuary Hills into two sides of houses, Remi couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement. She had always wondered what a typical neighborhood looked like before the world went to hell, and although this wasn't exactly it, it was close enough. She noticed the patches of somewhat green grass trying its hardest to grow at haphazard spots on the ground, and the determined hammering of a man fixing a hole on the side of one of the houses.

Remi found it strange that the living parts of Sanctuary Hills, human or not, seemed so set on restoring a world that once was. 

Preston led her and MacCready to a single house that stood in stark contrast against all the others. Freshly repainted a calming sky blue color, the exterior walls of the home were clad with illuminating light bulbs. Stepping into the carport, Remi settled her astonished stare on a half assembled gun sitting atop a sturdy workbench. A heaving cough brought her gaze upward into a window where a black-haired woman met her eyes. Narrowing them into a fierce glare, she turned her back toward the younger girl.

“Marcy,” Preston called, sticking his head into the doorway. “Marcy, this is Remi.”

“Like I give a shit.” Her voice held a hint of an accent that Remi had never heard before. 

Obviously not wanting to deal with the tension, Preston sighed deeply and turned to Remi. “This house is open to the community,” he explained. “This is where most of the crops we harvest are prepared and if we ever find ourselves too crowded, we're hoping to have spare beds in here.”

“How much for food?” Remi inquired, her stomach beginning to rumble at the thought of it. 

“How much?” He seemed sincerely confused. 

Remi took a moment to flick a wondering glance at MacCready, who simply raised his brows and averted her gaze. “Yeah, like, how many caps?” she asked slowly, tearing her lingering stare from her sniper escort. 

Again, Preston offered an amiable grin. “We don't work that way here, Remi. If you contribute, you get a bed to sleep in and food in your stomach.”

“Contribute how?” she demanded to know without a moment's hesitation. This deal just seemed too good to be true.

“Working the fields, patrolling the gates, tending to our sick and wounded. The list goes on and on.” He lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, his smile not faltering. “Look, I wouldn't ask you to do something I wouldn't do. All I expect is that you have the good of the community in mind.” 

Remi inhaled to spout off more questions, but a voice from behind cut her off. “Hey, Preston,” the female guard from earlier said. “Nora's back. She's coming through the gates now.”

MacCready was the first to make a move. Without a word, he split off from Remi and Preston and took off toward the way they came. Instinctively, Remi followed, though she nearly had to jog to keep up with his pace. 

“Nora is the general of the Minutemen,” Preston explained as they walked. Remi hadn't even realized that he was so close on her trail. “She's the reason why we have all this.” He outstretched his arms, gesturing to everything around them. “She's also the reason why most of us are still alive.”

Remi had never been jealous over a man before. After all, she'd never belonged to anyone and nobody had belonged to her. Seeing MacCready practically shove settlers from his path to Nora just before the two embraced each other dropped a brick into her gut. Once they pulled away, their faces alight, another wave of jealousy hit her. 

With extensive, curly scarlet locks, a perfect set of straight and white teeth, and a toned body that made even Remi's mind wander, Nora was absolutely perfect. The way MacCready's eyes lit at the sight of her and how his hands lingered just a moment longer on her body – Remi couldn't watch anymore. She turned her head, her focus suddenly forced onto the excited creature licking her hand. 

“Meet Dogmeat,” Preston introduced. “He's truly the general of the Minutemen and also the world's best pup.”

“Hello, handsome,” Remi greeted the dog as she dropped to a knee. Friendly animals were a rarity in the Commonwealth, so Remi savored every opportunity she came into contact with one. 

A boot coming to a standstill in her line of sight halted Remi's petting behind Dogmeat's ears. She glanced upward, meeting Nora's angelic, nearly symmetrical face. There was a tiny scar on the right side of her chin, but somehow it just added to how beautiful she was. “I see you've met Dogmeat,” Nora commented, her full lips pulling into a smile. Her cheeks dented with dimples. “He only lets good people pet him.”

Remi stood straight, still having to tip her chin up to look at Nora's face. If she wasn't taller than MacCready, she must've been damn close. Remi's stare strayed from the two emerald eyes in front of her and settled on said man for a moment. A cigarette in one hand again, he knelt to Dogmeat's level as the dog darted toward him. 

Extending her hand toward the smaller girl, Nora demanded her attention. “I'm Nora,” she told, her eyes glimmering with enthusiasm. “And your name?”

Next to her, Remi felt so trivial, both externally and internally. It was as if just being in the same space as Nora made her fall into a much more conserved shell. “U-Um, Remi,” she eventually said, her voice tremulous as she slipped her hand into Nora's. Soft and warm skin met her calloused and dry palms. Without thinking, Remi retched her hand back.

For a moment, she expected Nora to explode with offensive rage. That fear was cast away, though, as Nora simply chuckled and allowed her hand to drop to her side. 

“From what I understand, you didn't get very far into the tour with Preston,” she commented, sneaking a peek at the man behind Remi. “Why don't you let me pick up where you two left off and show you around your new home?”


	7. It Matters

Trudging behind Nora, Remi often fought the urge to wait until the older woman was distracted by her mindless babbling before turning around and running for the hills. She didn't want to be at Sanctuary Hills any longer. She felt cheated; MacCready hadn't warned her of the people who were perfect in every sense of the word. Being around Nora and Preston made her feel so unimportant. 

“We don't have as many settlers as we'd like just yet,” Nora explained as the two came to a stop in front of a tan house. Their last stop on the tour, thankfully. 

The holes in the walls had been patched by haphazard pieces of lumber and the windows looked as if they actually held glass. After a hasty period of speculation, Remi realized that there was indeed glass and her mind reeled. How in the hell did they manage that? Most of the windows back at Diamond City held only flimsy, ripped sheets and blankets. 

“So, until we get more, consider this house yours.”

The windows paled in comparison to those words. “Seriously?” Remi questioned, searching Nora's face for any sign that she was joking. The house was rather large, especially in contrast to her former home. 

Nora offered a compassionate grin. “This is a three bedroom, so once more people come to Sanctuary Hills, you'll have to share. But until then, it's seriously all yours.”

As much as Remi wanted to disclose the insignificant fact that it wasn't necessary because she wouldn't be sticking around long, she took a step toward it. This, technically, was the first time she'd been in an actual home. All the dwellings in Diamond City – aside from the mayor's, which overlooked the entire city – were speedily built shacks that groaned and wobbled during windstorms. Resting her hand on the rusted doorknob, Remi glanced back at Nora, who simply nodded in approval. 

The interior caught the girl off-guard. Much more immense than she expected, the den and kitchen were fully furnished with an obviously used couch, a wooden dining table, matching chairs, and a dirty, yet somehow cozy-looking rug. 

“I gussied this one up myself,” Nora commented from behind Remi. “I never realized just how therapeutic home design could be.” Although she meant for her words to come across lightheartedly, Remi picked on the subtle dismal tone underneath. “Well, I'll leave you to get moved in. Remember, if you get hungry, there's usually always someone cooking in the community house.”

Remi waved her off, relieved to finally be alone in her new – albeit, temporary – home. She closed the door the moment the woman was out of sight and plunged deeper into the building. With a choosing between three bedrooms, Remi picked the master to drop her belongings in upon seeing that it was the only one with an actual framed bed. 

Lying back on it, she couldn't help but wonder how they'd even found enough mattresses to offer. In Diamond City, even a twin-sized one sold for roughly two thousand caps. It had taken Remi three years to save up for hers just to have to leave it behind. If all the houses in Sanctuary Hills held even one mattress a piece, Nora was practically sitting on a gold mine. 

Just as Remi began to doze off, her stomach rumbled deeply. Sighing, she opened her eyes and stared at the paint-chipped ceiling. The mattress underneath her body was so comfortable – it definitely beat sleeping on the dirty concrete floor of the shed that MacCready had taken her to the night before. She pulled herself to her feet, wondering where he'd gone to. She hadn't seen him since Nora had taken over the tour and although she didn't want to admit it, she was starting to miss his annoying remarks. Big houses, she soon came to realize, were much easier to feel lonely in. 

The walk from Remi's home to the community house was rather short. Whether it was the actual distance or the fact that her stomach controlled her pace, she made it in no time at all. Lights glowed from the windows and boisterous laughter echoed throughout Sanctuary Hills. 

Before she even set foot into the house, Remi was greeted by two people reclining in plastic chairs outside. Both men, she only recognized the one who seemed to be a few years older. It was the security guard from earlier. Instinctively, her defenses heightened; the last thing she felt like putting up with was this asshole. 

Instead of meeting her with a glare and venom in his words like before, he grinned and waved her over. “Hey, new meat!” he yelled, his words slightly slurred. As Remi approached the two, she noticed the booze bottles in their hands and the empty ones littered around the chairs. 

“Don't call me that,” she deadpanned, trying to ignore the man who was more unfamiliar to her. Taking sip after sip of his beer, he kept his eyes locked on her. “Is MacCready in there?”

“You mean our good buddy RJ?” The two men exchanged a knowing look. “Yeah, your boyfriend's in there,” the younger replied with a chuckle. “Why don't you stay and keep us company, though? We're more fun than he is.”

Rolling her eyes, Remi scoffed, refusing to justify the boyfriend comment with any sort of acknowledgment. “Pigs,” she spat as she made her way into the house. 

The main room wasn't crowded by any means, but all the chatter made it feel as though it were. She stopped short, indecisive of where she should go next. To her left, she spied a man pacing back and forth in the kitchen, muttering to himself. Two large tables had been placed in the room she stood in, both occupied. Fortunately, after a moment of scanning faces, she came across Nora and MacCready sitting at the one furthest from the door. She wasted no time making her way to them. 

“Look who finally decided to join the party,” MacCready commented, his cheeks a soft tint of red. He pulled one of the chairs next to him from the table and patted the worn seat. “Getting settled in all right?”

Plopping herself down, Remi curled her nose at the stench of alcohol that permeated the air around him. “You're plastered,” she said without a hint of doubt. Her eyes dragged to Nora, who simply shrugged and took a delicate sip of her own beer. She didn't seem nearly as drunk as MacCready.“You guys seem pretty calm for having an entire neighborhood to protect, especially when the sun is starting to set.”

“We've got two on duty,” Nora assured her as she waved down the man from the kitchen. “Three, if you count Dogmeat. There really is no need to worry, Remi.”

But the younger girl wasn't convinced. Even as a plate of some sort of grilled vegetable was placed in front of her and her mind was slightly distracted by the scent of it, Remi couldn't bring herself to believe there was nothing to worry about. “There's a dozen guards on duty at all times in Diamond City,” she informed them, using a bent fork to dig into her food. “It's just a little hard for me to think this place is protected by two people and a dog.”

Exhaling loudly through his nose, MacCready leaned backward, resting his arm on the back of her chair. “This place isn't as...advertised as Diamond City,” he retorted. “I haven't heard of an attack here since...well, ever.” His eyes widened in realization before his gaze settled on the back of her head. 

Remi, however, was too appalled by the way Nora stared at him to come back with anything to continue proving her point. Nora's features softened, her own eyes casting an almost dreamy look. Maybe it was because she'd been drinking, but Remi doubted half a beer could bring anyone to that level. 

“Well, if it happens,” Nora said, a sly grin growing on her face, “at least I'll feel better knowing I've got the best gun-for-hire in the Commonwealth on my side.”

Whatever vegetable Remi had been munching on suddenly tasted of mud. Her stomach flipped, her appetite disappeared, and she pushed her chair back from the table. What the hell was going on with her? Why did Nora's words – which should've meant nothing to Remi – force a pang of...of...whatever this feeling was inside her?

“Hey, you good?” MacCready asked, a crease of concern between his brows as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You only took three bites.”

Remi's russet eyes paired his blue ones for what felt like hours before they dragged down to his lips. Somewhere on the other side of the table, Nora's voice echoed, but Remi couldn't pick up on what she said. She'd never paid any attention to MacCready's lips before, so why was everything about them suddenly so different and enticing? 

“I'm full,” she squeaked, stepping away from the chair to push it back into place. “I never eat much. You two can have the rest. I'm, uh, going to turn in for the night. So, yeah. Bye.”

Whatever MacCready had called out fell on deaf ears. Feeling as if she couldn't get away from the two quickly enough, Remi practically jogged from the community house, her stomach pining for more food. She ignored it the entire way back to her own home, her mind advising her that only the taste of dirt would fill her mouth. 

Once she was behind closed doors, Remi shut her eyes tightly and let out a heavy breath. She plopped herself onto the dusty couch and buried her face in her hands. Just what exactly had that been about? She'd never felt so bitter about being around a person before. Her gut lurched just thinking about Nora and the way she looked at MacCready. 

_MacCready._

In the Commonwealth, there were at least five hundred things to fret over: radiation poisoning, finding enough food to last until the next day, druggies who were so brain fried that they couldn't tell a human apart from a Deathclaw. Men were definitely the very last thing on that list, if they weren't trying to kill you. 

Cupping her mouth and nose between her palms, Remi shook her head. “Get a hold of yourself,” she scolded outwardly against her skin. “He doesn't matter. The only thing that _does_ matter is staying alive.”

In the darkest, most honest corners of her mind, however, she knew that MacCready _did_ matter. If it hadn't been for him, she would've been turned into Super Mutant shit long ago.

Three heavy knocks at the front door broke Remi's reverie. Gathering herself, she made her way toward the door, standing on her toes to look through the peephole. MacCready stood underneath the low light of the bulb outside, his eyes glazed over and his arms crossed over his chest.

Remi's first thought was to hurry to unlock the door and yank it open. She stopped herself short, deciding that maybe it would be better to pretend she was asleep. Then again, what if he needed something – something Nora couldn't do for him? That thought lifted Remi's spirits slightly.

The moment she opened the door and MacCready's eyes landed on her, a goofy drunken grin curled on his lips. “Thought you were going to bed,” he commented, looking over her head to peer into the house.

Remi accepted his curiosity and pushed the door the rest of the way open. “It usually takes me more than ten minutes to pass out.” As he walked past her, his face illuminated by the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling in the den, she cast her attention to the gun tied securely on his back. “Do you ever take that thing off?” She thought of her own weapon: the crowbar that had been carelessly tossed into the bedroom alongside her backpack.

“Can't afford to,” MacCready replied, his eyes tracing every crevice of the walls as if he were etching the surfaces into his memories. “So, what? No tour?”

He'd come for a tour of the house? What exactly was there to show other than the bed, which was the only thing Remi was excited to own? Baffled, she shrugged and outstretched her palms, motioning to everything around her. “Um, so the couch is there,” she said awkwardly. She'd never had the chance to show off a home before. “It provides cushioned seating for butts of all shapes and sizes.”

MacCready's persistent smile met her dumbfounded expression. “Wow, really? I never would've figured that out!” he exclaimed with sarcasm. A hearty laugh followed his words. “Oh, don't give me that look, Remi. You know I'm just messing with you.”

Sure, she knew that, but it didn't stop her from feeling that same sort of jealousy from before as the realization set in that he was here to check out the house, not to see her. Remi immediately reminded herself that it didn't matter – that _he_ didn't matter. She barely knew anything about the guy. Hell, she'd only recently learned his true name. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, Remi narrowed her eyes. “Feel free to look around on your own,” she offered. “I'm not going to be staying long anyway.”

Already venturing into the hallway, MacCready inquired, “Why? You'd have to be an idiot to pass up a place this nice! Three bedrooms and an actual bed? Seriously, this place is something to brag about!”

On that, Remi had to agree with him. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she strummed her fingertips on the cracked and stained surface. “I guess I'm an idiot, then,” she shot back. She didn't want to explain herself, but her mind raced with reasons why she had to get out of Sanctuary Hills, the main being the way Nora looked at MacCready.

Although she didn't want to admit it, she knew she was being childish. She was letting a person – a guy who absolutely did not matter – control a decision that could lead her to a better, much safer life. At least here, the chances of being found were practically nonexistent. The only people who knew she was here wouldn't give out that information to anyone who asked. 

Remi took a second to think that statement over before coming to the conclusion that it wasn't entirely true. She didn't know anything about these people, MacCready included. 

“Sorry, wrong choice of phrasing,” MacCready said as he emerged from the hallway. “Mind if I crash here for the night? I'll take the couch so I don't hog your bed.”

Remi studied him for a moment. Obviously too intoxicated to keep himself out of danger, MacCready leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for her answer. New and odd feelings for him aside, there was no way she could deny him. Not after everything he'd done for her.

“Make yourself at home,” Remi muttered, starting for her bedroom. 

Just as she passed him, MacCready seemed to tense. “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot.” Digging into the satchel on his hip, he provided a wad of something wrapped in a cloth. “I knew you were full of crap when you said you don't eat much; I saw the way you inhaled that InstaMash I cooked for you. So, here.”

Insanely intrigued, Remi took the wad from his hand and unwrapped it. Her food from earlier plus some. At first, she was speechless. Nobody had ever gone so much out of their way to make sure she was fed, especially two times. Then, after a moment of silence between the two, she looked up at his booze blushed face and uttered a soft, “Thank you.”

Without another word, MacCready nodded and promptly sprawled out as much as he could on the couch. As Remi placed the food on the counter, she watched him lie on his back, his gun across his chest with one finger near the trigger, and seemingly fall asleep in no time at all. 

She didn't loiter for too long. Just before she reached up to turn the light bulb off, she cast one more glance toward MacCready, a warm feeling spreading throughout her chest. He didn't matter, she repeated over and over again in her mind as she felt her way to the bedroom through the darkness. It was just a crush that would disappear once one of them was gone for good. 

Remi's bed creaked in welcome as she crawled onto it. As tired as she felt, she expected to fall asleep as quickly as MacCready did. A noise kept her awake – one that filled her with an overwhelming sense of dread. It wasn't gunshots or frantic dogs barking. It was the simple booming of approaching thunder. 

Before she knew it, Remi was back in the den, rousing MacCready awake. He woke with a gasp and immediately jumped to his feet, his gun ready to fire at any given moment. “What, what?!” he breathed, desperately looking to her for guidance. “What the hell's going on?!”

Remi had never felt so stupid in her life. Maybe she really was an idiot, but hearing the rain while being in a completely foreign place was just too much for her to handle. “It's going to rain again,” she hissed.

With a huff of exasperation, MacCready lowered his gun. “You've got to be kidding me,” he growled, his voice laced with annoyance. “Not this again, Remi.”

His tone stung, but she kept on anyway. She needed something familiar to get her through this and at that moment, he was the closest thing she was going to get. “Just...sleep with me for this one night,” she said, panic rising inside her at another boom, “please.”

“ _What?_ ” MacCready couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming or still drunk and just imagining this. He knew Remi had an issue with the rain, but this just seemed a little too dramatic, even for her. 

“It doesn't have to be in the same bed,” Remi blabbered on as she curled her fingers around his wrist and led him toward the bedroom. Her body felt as if it were moving on its own. “You can have the bed and I'll take the floor. I don't care. I just need you in the same room.”

Ultimately, they both ended up on the bed. After a series of arguments that MacCready would take the floor instead, rain began to pelt the roof and Remi proceeded to reach for his arm and yank him onto the mattress with her. 

Sleep avoided the two for hours. For Remi, it was for the fact that water was splashing down everywhere around the house. It left her breathless and trembling in horror. For MacCready, it was different. He'd always enjoyed the rain, especially the sound of it. Unfortunately, he found it hard to savor it with a quivering girl lying next to him, her breathing so ragged that he was unsure if she was crying or not. 

He didn't know what to do or say for that matter. It wasn't as if he could wrap his arms around her and kiss her and tell her that everything would be okay. She was practically a stranger to him, but he finally decided that anything would be better than nothing. Double checking to make sure his gun was at the edge of the bed, he rolled to face Remi, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

She tilted her head to look back at him, giving him just enough of a view of her face to see what she was crying. “What's up with you?” he questioned as she turned to face him, her arms protectively wrapped around her body. “Why does rain freak you out so badly?”

Remi brought her lower lip into her mouth to bite down on it. “It's everywhere all at once,” she whispered. “It smothers.”

Her answer left MacCready more confused than ever, but he didn't press anymore on the subject. Remi was tough, or at least she acted like it. Whatever had happened to her to make her so terrified of rain must've been traumatizing. So, he did the only thing he would think of: he brushed his thumb underneath her eyes, wiping at her tears, and pulled her close into him. 

For as long as she could remember, Remi had never had anyone hold her before. Beneath the sheer terror racking through her being, that same warmth she felt earlier lit inside her. As MacCready rested his chest on the top of her head, she relaxed in his arms, allowing her eyes to close.

They exchanged no words, but he stayed right next to her the entire night. MacCready was there and that was all that mattered.

(~)

Slender, delicate fingers gently shook Remi awake. Her eyes, swollen and itchy, fluttered open to Nora's face hazing into view. Before she had the chance to say anything, Nora silently shushed her.

As Remi began to sit up, she noticed the arm lying limply across her hips. Sometime during the night, MacCready had formed himself against her curvature, his mouth settled at the base of her neck. Ever so slowly, she pried herself from his grasp without waking him and followed Nora from the house, grabbing her crowbar along the way.

Sunlight just barely peeked out over the hills and the earth was rancid and moist beneath Remi's torn shoes. Rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands, she let out a lengthy yawn. “Why am I up at the asscrack of dawn?” she groaned. She would have much rather stayed in bed with MacCready, even if she refused to express that.

Nora seemed unfazed by the earliness of the day. In fact, with her mouth pulled into a deep frown and her brows furrowed together, she looked more worried than anything else. 

“I've gotten word of a Raider gang that's planning on attacking Sanctuary Hills soon,” she explained, her almond shaped eyes boring into Remi's. “I need your help taking them out.”


	8. What Lurks In Shadows

As much as she didn't want to admit it, especially to Nora, the thought of taking on a Raider gang terrified Remi. They were just two people, one of which had never fired a gun. Unless Nora had some sort of intricate plan to take out their enemies without being ambushed, Remi knew they were screwed. 

She let out a breathy sigh followed by a shiver. Although the later daytime hours were often scorching and miserable, the early mornings were always chilly. Luckily, the temperatures never dropped low enough for snow to fall from the sky – an occurrence Remi had witnessed only once in her lifetime. Still, goosebumps lifted on her arms and legs. 

“So,” Nora began after clearing her throat, “how did you and RJ meet?”

Remi studied the older woman, almost curious as to why she had asked that so casually. She expected even a small hint of jealousy, especially after just being found in the same bed with him. “Um, it's kind of a long story.”

Nora shrugged, her eyes alert for any sign of life to pass by. “We've got a little ways between here and where the Raiders are supposed to be.”

At the mention of the Raiders, Remi's heart fell again. They weren't the usual creatures of the wasteland. For the most part, they were sentient beings who could do with their hostages what they wanted. More often than not, they didn't simply kill right away, or so the rumors went. Not many people encountered Raiders and lived to tell about it. 

“Have you ever actually faced a Raider gang before?” Remi asked, her hand tightening around her crowbar. 

Sunlight danced on Nora's face as she turned her head to grin back at the girl. Remi grit her teeth at the sight of it. “Twice, but RJ had my back. Speaking of him, you're avoiding the question.” 

What exactly was there to say? It wasn't as if Remi could just divulge the fact she robbed him like it was no big deal. Instead, she shrugged and lied her way out of it. “We just bumped into each other,” she told, averting Nora's stubborn stare. 

“Really?” Nora could see through Remi's bullshit; the way she said that single word so incredulously gave it away. “That isn't what he told me.”

They hadn't been gone from Sanctuary Hills for more than twenty minutes, but the heat was already beginning to beat down on them. Sweat gathered at the back of Remi's neck. The urge to wipe it away nagged at her, but she kept her hands still. She felt dirty enough as is – the last thing she wanted was the lingering scent of body odor on her palm. 

“What'd he tell you?” Remi prodded. Nora sure knew how to peak someone's interest, which she found annoying. 

Gaze locked on the approaching neighborhood before them, Nora let out a wistful sigh. “Just that he was dreaming about being mugged by the Gunners but as it turns out, it was just a blonde girl with a cute smile.” 

Remi's pace quickened, bringing her to Nora's side rather than trailing behind her. All the while, her tongue traced the gap between her teeth. “He thinks my smile is cute?” She felt idiotic gushing over this, but it wasn't every day that someone complimented her teeth. 

With a short chuckle, Nora placed her free hand on Remi's shoulder. “I was with him for three weeks straight, and if I had a dollar for every time your name came out of his mouth, well, I'd be able to afford something.”

“A dollar?”

“I mean a cap.”

As the two ventured into the heart of Concord, their conversation fell flat. Remi didn't mind; she was trapped in a hurricane of her own thoughts anyway. She knew she was in denial – she didn't want to care about MacCready's opinion of her. But he liked her smile and that included the gap. He liked the one thing she hated the most about herself, aside from the scar that tore at a slant over her right eye. 

Scars, however, went unnoticed these days. Everyone had them, except Nora. Her skin was flawless, which somewhat eased Remi's nerves about taking on a group of Raiders. The woman had obviously yet to be harmed.

“Why aren't you upset?” Remi spouted, the sudden sound of her voice causing Nora to jolt in surprise. 

“Why would I be upset?”

“Well, for starters, MacCready thinks my smile is cute.” Hearing her own voice say it seemed to solidify it as a fact. Her stomach fluttered. “Aren't you guys...like, a thing?” An image of the girls hanging on MacCready's side back in Goodneighbor flashed through her mind. 

For the first time since meeting her, Remi found herself pitying Nora. The woman's mouth pulled into a deep frown as she lifted her left hand, showing off a dirty ring that Remi had never noticed before. “No, we aren't. I'm married. Or...I was, until recently,” she muttered dismally. “My husband was murdered and my son...” Her eyes clouded with tears before she hurried to blink them away. 

As much as she felt sympathetic toward Nora, Remi was also relieved. If only she'd known this a day before, she wouldn't have stormed from the community house back in Sanctuary Hills like some sort of pouting child. Embarrassment replaced the relief, but she didn't have much time to dwell on it. The moment she opened her mouth to offer a word of condolence, booming laughter cut her off. It sounded too close for comfort. 

Apparently racked with the same thought, Nora acted. She grabbed for Remi's wrist and yanked her toward one of the many boarded up houses surrounding them. Together they knelt behind the skeleton of a rusted car, trying their hardest to calm their ragged breathing. As Nora peered through the sights of her gun toward the source of the noise, Remi watched her in horror, flashbacks of the Super Mutant horde invading her mind. Fortunately, she wasn't unarmed this time.

“Looks like the party came to us,” Nora deadpanned. “They must be on their way to Sanctuary Hills.” 

Remi searched the face in front of her for any sign of the sad woman from only a few moments ago. She was gone, it seemed, and someone new had replaced her entirely – someone courageous and driven. 

“All right, here's what we're going to do,” Nora whispered as she ducked back behind the car. Her eyes fiercely pierced Remi's, and like when the two first met, Remi couldn't help but feel intimidated. “There aren't very many – maybe only five or six. So, I need you to--”

“Not as bait.”

“What?”

“I don't want to be used as bait. That shit really sucks.”

It must not have been in Nora's plan to use Remi in such a way, because the look of bewilderment written on her face didn't disappear until a bullet grazed the top of the car, just barely missing their heads. With a sharp inhale, Nora's hand landed on Remi's head, pushing her downward toward the ground. The laughter had turned into battle cries of sorts and gunshots echoed throughout the air. 

“Stay down,” Nora hissed curtly. “I'll handle this.”

As if it were some sort of graceful dance, she twisted her body and aimed the gun through the window of the car. Bullet after bullet flew from the barrel, leaving Remi to wonder if she was landing them in anything. The shouting didn't quiet by any means. 

“Then why did you bring me?” she retorted, trying to ignore the trembling in her voice. Underneath the fear, Remi felt almost cheated. Was she only brought along to witness how great Nora was? Without waiting for a reply, she scrambled to a crouch and peeked over the hood of the car. 

The Raiders had spread out, constantly moving to make it more difficult to land any shots. Clad in makeshift armor, they all looked the same in a way. Some were shorter and had hair that poked out from whatever material they found to make helmets, but in general, their movements mocked each other. They were fast, making a point to not stay in the same place for more than a second, and their limbs twitched sporadically. 

Remi's eyes settled on a building past them. Holes had been blown in the walls and it seemed as if it would collapse at any moment. “I'm going to circle around,” Remi told Nora when she had stopped shooting to load more bullets into the chamber. “See if I can get a couple of them to come in that building after me. We can trap them in there and you can take them out.”

Nora studied the girl's face for a moment, searching for something that Remi couldn't place. At first, it seemed almost like she was impressed that she came up with a plan at all. Then, she spoke. “And how exactly are we going to trap them?”

The answer came to Remi more quickly than she expected. “They'll be looking for me in there, right? So while you're dealing with the ones that stay back, I can hide from the others. Then when you're done, you come after them while they're busy with me.”

“Fine, fine. Go!”

Remi couldn't remember the last time she'd ran so fast. As she sprinted toward the adjoining building, everything around her seemed to blur. She could hear the frantic calls of the Raiders, but their words sounded garbled as if she was hearing them through water. Her mouth felt dry with her heavy breathing, but as she lunged over broken lampposts and dented trash cans, she made it into the partially destroyed building in no time at all. And fortunately, her prediction came true: three Raiders had decided to chase after her. 

The interior of the building was much like the exterior: trashed, ruined, and decayed. But with its shelves, counter space, and second story, it provided more than enough hiding room. Remi acted fast, her brain hardly able to keep up with her body. 

She chose to rush up the stairs, wincing at the cracking of the wood beneath her feet. She prayed it wouldn't give out while she was on it as she kept her stare upward. Voices, deep and terrifying, seemed to be right at her ear, but when she turned her head, she saw nobody. 

“C'mon, get up!” one shouted impatiently. Remi flinched at the sound of it, her heartbeat hammering away in her ears as she lodged herself underneath a somewhat intact bed. 

“I-I can't! I think I sprained my ankle!”

“Sprained your ankle?!” A hearty, almost genuine laugh. “Get the fuck over it and get up! What are you, some sort of baby?!”

“Just leave 'im! He ain't worth the time!”

Thunderous footsteps slammed against the stairs. Remi watched two sets of worn, ugly feet appear. They were cracked and bloodied, like they'd never touched shoes their entire life. One hand on her crowbar, she used the other to cover her nose and mouth, hushing her breathing. She didn't hear anymore gunshots outside. Hopefully Nora was on her way; it was only a matter of time before the Raiders would decide to flip the bed. 

“Where are ya, girl?! If you come out now, we won't hurt ya too bad!”

The same laugh as before filled the room. “We'll try not to, at least.”

Remi shut her eyes tight, nausea rising in her gut. Maybe her plan had backfired on her. If Nora had taken down the other Raiders, she sure was taking her sweet time coming to Remi's rescue. Unless she wasn't coming at all. 

That spark of realization hit Remi like a slap to the face. Her mind raced with possibilities: What if Nora had led her out here to abandon her at the mercy of the Raiders? What if that story about her husband and son had been nothing but complete and utter bullshit? What if this was her way of getting MacCready all to herself with Remi out of the picture? 

Ire filled her, a distinct rage that forced her body to move without any thought behind it. The moment one of the Raiders had come to a stop just by the bed, Remi's arm awkwardly swung her crowbar. With crack and an ear-piercing holler, the Raider crumbled to the ground, holding his ankle in pain. 

“Gah, fuck!” he screamed once his eyes met Remi's. Ever-so-glossy, she wasn't surprised that he was drugged up on something. “You fuckin' bitch!”

From the other side of the bed, a hand reached toward Remi, fingers curling around her hair. As they yanked her out in the open, she shrieked and flailed about, trying to either punch or kick her way from her captor. They pulled her to her feet and curled an arm around her neck, squeezing tightly. She gasped for air, digging her fingernails into the arm. The skin felt like stone.

“We were going to somewhat easy on you,” the Raider behind her purred into her ear. “Y'know, maybe even treat you to a nice finger removal before we destroyed your body, but you fucked up. Guess we can just fuck what's left of you.”

“I'm shootin' her!” the other Raider protested as he struggled to stand on his feet. “I called dibs!”

Remi's legs quivered, her lungs were beginning to ache, and her head itched at the roots of her hair. Still, she screamed and screamed until the injured Raider limped over to deliver his palm to the side of her face. Tears welled in her eyes immediately, blurring her vision. 

“I've always liked screamers. What about you, Jare--”

A gunshot brought a ringing to Remi's ears. The arm disappeared from around her neck, allowing her to collapse against the edge of the bed. Her gaze settled on the mangled head of the Raider in front of her as she listened to the beginning of a string of profanities from the one behind her. Just as he began to yell, another gunshot sounded and silenced him. 

Resting her head on the dingy mattress, Remi still struggled to breathe. Even as Nora rushed to her side and placed her hand on her back, rubbing in circular motions, she couldn't find it in her to bring in a full breath. Then, as if her body knew exactly what to do, she leaned away from Nora and retched. The small amount of dinner from the night before came up in chunks and suddenly, her lungs inflated. 

“Oh my God,” Remi whispered, placing her forehead against the mattress. “What the fuck? I knew these guys were psychos, but holy fuck.”

Nora's hand came to a halt in the middle of Remi's back. “You've dealt with Raiders before?”

Brain still functioning at high speed, Remi spat, “I've heard stories.” She pressed her palms into the mattress, forcing herself to stand up. “Did you kill the rest? Can we get out of here?” 

Nora nodded as she picked up Remi's crowbar from the floor and handed it over. “Yeah, they're gone.”

A dull headache growing, Remi grabbed her weapon and followed Nora down the stairs. Her heart still thumped away rapidly as her mind tried to process everything that had happened. “Wait,” she said, coming to a stop just as Nora made her way over a pile of rubble at the foot of the stairs. “Did you get that one that was down here?”

The sound of snapping wood gave the answer. Almost simultaneously, Nora's gun lifted and Remi readied to swing her crowbar as they turned to face a shadowed figure huddled in the corner. 

“Are they dead?” the shadow inquired. Remi recognized the silvery voice as the one who sprained his ankle.

“Don't shoot – he's already injured,” Remi whispered, earning herself a curious look from her teammate. Crowbar still tight in her hand, she addressed the man, “Yeah, they're dead. All of them.”

Nora's finger lingered near the trigger as the Raider shimmied his way toward them and into the light. Seeing that his ankle was inflamed and discolored, Remi cringed. However, the moment she lifted her gaze to his face, she faltered. 

“It's you,” she murmured. “You saved me the other day.”

Without the mask that Remi had first seen him in, his eyes were the only thing that gave him away: one sewn shut, the other a soft hazel. The Raider met her shocked stare and ran a tremulous hand through his greasy black hair. “I didn't save you,” he answered. “You just weren't trying to kill me.”

“You know him?” Nora demanded to know, her sights still set on him. In the midst of the surprise, Remi had almost gotten she was there. 

“No, she doesn't,” Hazel Eye answered. Both he and Remi refused to break the shared eye contact. 

“Then we need to ki--”

“No, wait.” 

Remi took a step closer to him, gingerly crouching down to his level. He seemed so young, and yet the pockets in his skin left her with doubts. She'd seen what chems did to people. They altered physical appearances, caused hallucinations, and even led the kindhearted to murder their loved ones. Hazel Eye seemed to suffer from his addiction through physical means. His mental state still seemed intact. 

“We're not going to kill you,” Remi assured him, ignoring the huff of protest from behind her. “You're going to go back to wherever you came from and tell your buddies to stay away from Sanctuary Hills. Tell them – tell them I'm the one who screwed up your ankle as a warning.”

Hazel Eye chuckled in disbelief. “You don't have to worry about it.” Something about the way he said it, his face exhausted and worn, enforced that he didn't have the energy to lie. 

“I know,” Remi whispered before standing straight. She turned to Nora, who looked beyond irritated. “Ready?”

“I've been ready.”

Casting Hazel Eye one last warning glare, Nora turned on her heel and took the lead. With her gun still at her side, finger loyally on the trigger, she climbed over a crushed bookcase and disappeared through a hole blasted in the side of the building. Just as Remi started after her, Hazel Eye's voice brought her back. 

“You know, Dimitri said you were ruthless and dangerous, that you belonged with us like your dad. He was wrong.”


	9. Send and Receive

“What'd he say to you?”

“Nothing really.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Remi felt sick to her stomach as she and Nora trekked back to Sanctuary Hills. The sun being directly above them now made the trip even worse. Sweat dripped from their chins and noses, and dampened their clothing at their armpits. On top of the anxiety and heat, Remi's gut was becoming vocal. 

Dimitri. Hazel Eye had mentioned Dimitri. Had the Raider gang been sent to Sanctuary Hills because Dimitri had given the order? If so, that meant he knew where Remi was. He knew that she was no longer under the protection of Diamond City security. 

Upon seeing the rickety, dangerous bridge, Remi sighed in relief. She didn't think it was possible to be so happy to see a place she was hesitant to be at in the first place. Her pace quickened and before long, she was jogging toward the inner workings of the settlement. 

The gate creaked open at the sound of Nora's demanding voice and once Remi was across the threshold, Dogmeat faithfully greeted her with a bark and slobbery kisses on her palms. Bringing herself down to one knee, she scratched behind his ears, any thoughts of Dimitri disappearing for the time being. 

“There you are!”

MacCready's voice tore Remi's attention away from the animal. Leisurely strolling toward her, he wore an expression of something she couldn't quite place her finger on. Worry? 

“ _Just that he was dreaming about being mugged by the Gunners but as it turns out, it was just a blonde girl with a cute smile._ ”

The moment Remi stood up, he pulled her into an unexpected embrace. Unfortunately, it only lasted for a split second before he tore himself away and placed a finger underneath her chin to left her head. “The hell happened to your face?” he asked as his blue eyes traced her features. 

“I beat her up,” Nora replied with a half smirk. Remi turned to place at her for an explanation, but received only a sly wink. “She started getting mouthy with me and I just couldn't hold back.”

“Sounds like her,” MacCready teased, dropping his hand. 

As the two fell into a conversation about the Raiders, Remi's mind wandered. She'd gone through so much trouble to get to a safe place and before she even had the chance to really call it hers, it had been ripped away from her. Maybe she had made a mistake by sparing Hazel Eye's life. Now she had Dimitri to deal with if he decided to come for her. 

Correction: when he decided to come for her.

Her gaze traveled about the settlement, each figure passing by earning an inspection. Either dangling on their hips or clutched in their hands, everyone sported a gun of some kind. Surely they would come to Remi's rescue should the need arise. Then again, who exactly was she to them besides a random girl MacCready dragged in?

“But really,” MacCready said, breaking away from talking with Nora, “what screwed up your eye?”

Again, the women exchanged glances. It almost surprised Remi that Nora seemed to be curious as well, then she remembered the slap happened before she arrived at the scene. In all honesty, it embarrassed her a little; a slap from a Raider was nothing in comparison to what they usually had the mindset to do. 

“Does it really look that bad?” Remi joked with a forced smile. 

“Nah, it's just a little scrape, but I mean--”

Nora interrupted MacCready with a loud, dramatic yawn. “I'm wiped out. What about you, Remi?”

Now that she mentioned it, Remi was pretty tired. All the excitement with the Raiders had alerted her at the time, but now that the adrenaline had faded, her body felt sluggish and heavy. “Yeah, I'm beat,” she replied, a real yawn pulling into her chest. “I think, uh, I'm going to go lie down for a bit.”

She half expected MacCready to follow her into her house, but he trailed after Nora instead. Lying back on the bed, she couldn't help but feel a little stupid for being discouraged by it. She was almost completely certain that there was nothing between the two. 

Even if there was, Remi didn't care. She didn't.

Before she knew it, her eyes snapped open. Beads of sweat littered her forehead and a hint of nausea lurched about inside her. In the midst of the exhaustion and reuniting with MacCready, she'd forgotten about her hunger. Now it reared its painful head once more, giving her no choice but to satisfy it. The swaddled vegetables from the night before flashed through her mind and she rushed to the kitchen for them. 

Sanctuary Hills was much more lively now than before Remi had dozed off. Chatter and the monotonous banging of tools echoed throughout the air as she munched away at her food. The sun was beginning its descent in the western sky; she must've been out for a few hours.

A knock at her door added to the noise. With a mouthful of food, Remi pulled at the knob and met MacCready's eyes. An automatic grin grew on his lips.

“Guess who smells?” he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, he snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You do!”

Half awake, her cheeks slightly enlarged with chewed food, Remi simply lifted her middle finger. 

“I'm joking!” MacCready announced with a chuckle, catching the door with his boot when she attempted to shut it on him. “Well, sort of. Preston wanted me to let you know that they've disinfected enough water so you can wash yourself. It's probably been a few days, huh?”

MacCready was the last person she wanted to admit it to, but she hadn't actually bathed since before she left Diamond City. Clean water was hard to come by – most people used it for drinking and if you were lucky enough, there would be some left over to clean the dirt and grime from underneath your fingernails. 

After swallowing, Remi glanced past MacCready. “How much?” she inquired. She still found it hard to believe that luxuries around the place didn't cost any caps, and she knew that if she asked anyone who actually lived within the makeshift walls, they'd lie to her like Preston had.

Instead of a direct answer like she wanted, MacCready sighed and looked down at her as if she was the most tiresome person in the world to speak with. “Don't worry about it,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest. 

She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that she was going to worry about it, but the residue of sweat made her sticky and an awful scent permeated around her. She couldn't smell it herself, but she knew others could and were just too polite to make any remarks about it. So, with a breath of defeat, Remi followed him toward a house near the outskirts of the community, one that seemed less populated than the others.

“I'll stand guard outside,” MacCready offered, leaning against the exterior wall of the house with a cigarette pressed between his lips. “The only person who would come in anyway would be Nora.”

Remi gave a quick nod as she reached for his cigarette, took a puff for herself, and entered the house. Like all the others, the inside wasn't much to look at. The holes in the walls had been covered for privacy and in the center of the living room, a porcelain tub had been filled halfway with steaming water. She peered into it, feeling the same sort of excitement she always felt when she saw what was at the bottom of water. 

“And this is all for me?” she called out, hoping MacCready could hear her through the walls. 

It took him a moment to answer. “It sure is! There aren't any towels, so you'll just have to deal!”

Remi rushed to strip herself of her clothes and slip into the water. At first, it burned at her skin, but the further she emerged herself into it, the more soothing it felt. She closed her eyes, cupping water into her palms and bringing them to her shoulders. It was almost as if she was shedding her old, sticky skin as the water trailed down her breasts and stomach. Having been completely clear at the start, the liquid had turned to a dingy brown once she dipped her hair into it. 

Though the water was warm, her body froze at the sight of the door creaking open. Splashing a bit of it onto the floor, Remi pressed herself lower underneath, hiding anything from sight. Nora's head poked out from around the door, an amiable smirk apparent. “Just me,” she announced as she shimmied her way into the room, closing the door behind her. “I'm not sure if these will fit, but they're cleaner than your old ones.” In her hands, she held a bundle of clothing tied together with what seemed to be a worn, frayed rope. 

“Uh, thanks,” Remi murmured, her body not lifting from the water. She was aware that she and Nora shared the same body parts, but she barely knew her, even if they had just risked their lives together. Remi's mother had been the only person who see her naked and she planned on keeping it that way.

With a nod, Nora left the way she came. Remi pulled herself from the tub, ran her fingers through her damp hair, and bent over to shake out the rest of the droplets. The clothes – a simple white shirt and a pair of tan cargo shorts – were a little too big on her, but they didn't feel greasy or smell like a mixture of smoke, dust, and sweat like her old ones did. Pulling the shirt over her head, she sighed gratefully. She couldn't recall the last time she wore fresh clothes.

“Wow, look at you,” MacCready remarked once she opened the door to the outside world. He lifted his brows, an impressed look written on his face. “You almost look like a new person.”

“I _feel_ like a new person,” Remi replied. 

He chuckled and shook his head, his gaze moving toward the community house. Per usual, an inciting scent wafted from it. “You never realize how filthy you are until the water turns black,” he said, leaving Remi to wonder if he'd ever actually made the water darken to that point. Deep down, she didn't doubt it. 

Side by side, they walked toward the smell, their stomachs rumbling almost in unison. The vegetables had done their job to rid Remi of starvation, but they didn't completely satisfy her. Nora met them at the same table as the night before, her plate already half empty. Lifting her eyes to them, she waved them over and beamed once they were close enough.

“How was it?” she inquired, watching as a plate of InstaMash was placed in front of Remi. “It's like washing all your troubles away, isn't it?”

If only, Remi mused. Before answering, she scooped a gracious amount of the silky potatoes into her mouth, savored their flavor, and swallowed. “Sort of,” she said as she piled another bite onto her dented spoon. “So, is it a weekly thing for people to take baths or what? Because in Diamond City, we – What?”

MacCready's eyes shot to Nora, narrowing cautiously. For a split second, the trio fell silent. Then, Nora sighed and turned to Remi. “Get mad at me all you want, RJ, but it's a really nice thing you did for once,” she hissed. “To some people around here, baths are more valuable than food. It takes a lot to get the water clean and hot enough to use, so we don't do it unless the person who wants it pays a lot of caps or trades something that is worth more than the usual junk we get.”

Mouth half full of food, Remi mumbled, “So what does this have to do with him?” Then, as if someone had lit the light inside her brain, she added, “You...paid for my bath?” 

“Not really,” MacCready answered, avoiding her piercing stare. 

Nora let out an annoyed groan and rolled her eyes. “Jesus, RJ, since when are you scared to boast?” she scolded, her tone almost motherly. “He paid for his own yesterday and then gave it to you.”

Remi's face flushed as she pushed another heap of InstaMash down her throat. Her palms dampened and she hurried to wipe them on her new shorts as she and MacCready made brief eye contact. “Well, that was stupid of you,” she decided, holding back her persistent grin. His brows furrowed and his head tilted slightly to the side. She couldn't help it anymore. A grin cracked through, her stomach fluttering with the delicious food and the fact that he'd given up something important to her. “You obviously need it more than me, because guess who smells?”

His eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. “I do?”

“You do.”

(~)

By the time the sun set over the mountains and Sanctuary Hills fell quiet, Remi had dozed off twice. It seemed as if there weren't enough hours in the day to sleep as much as she wanted, so when night came, she was more than ecstatic to crawl into her bed. The frame groaned at her weight. Underneath her, the mattress felt like clouds kissing the ache throughout her body.

For what seemed like hours, she stared at the ceiling through the darkness. Somewhere outside, laughter boomed. It almost sounded like Preston, but it faded before she could be sure. 

Remi tried listening to the gentle snores from MacCready, who camped out on her couch again. The storms kept their distance for the night, so she had no plans of yanking him from his sleep to guide him to her bed. Oddly enough, it disappointed her. She'd never slept in the same bed with a man before, and having his arm around her, even in her slumber, made her feel more secure than any wall ever had. 

She found herself craving it, and then promptly shook her head. “Stop being gross,” she whispered to herself before turning over, pulling the thin blanket over her head. 

Eventually, her mind traveled to Diamond City, to Piper and Nat, and to Ester. She wondered if the old woman remembered that she had left, or even remembered who she was in the first place. Her mind had been slipping over the past few years, but lately it seemed as if it had been growing worse and worse rapidly. The idea that Remi soon wouldn't exist in her mind lurched her stomach, so she settled on the sisters.

Surely they would have realized that she was gone by now. And surely, Remi had absolutely no doubt in her mind, Piper would blame Mayor McDonough for it, kick open his door, and demand to know what the hell happened. This thought pulled a content smile onto Remi's face. Leave it to Piper to make the mayor's life a living hell. 

Before she knew it, sunlight was invading her home and trying to force its way past her eyelids. Remi moaned and rolled over, telling herself that she was probably dreaming and that it's still nighttime. But the sounds around her told her otherwise. Sanctuary Hills was awake, which meant she should be too. Instead of peeling herself from her bed, however, she remained still, two familiar voices catching her by surprise. They sounded as if they were just outside the bedroom. 

“What do you want me to tell her, RJ? Isn't it a little screwed up that you're just going to leave without saying bye?”

A sigh. “I don't know. Just...tell her I had to go take care of something important. If I keep going like this, I'm never going to leave, and I can't do that to Duncan. You should know that better than anyone, Nora.”

A pause. “I understand. You'll be back, though, right?”

“Eventually, yea--”

Remi yanked the blanket from her body and darted toward the door. “Where are you going?” she demanded to know, turning the corner to face Nora and MacCready. They both looked toward her as if they were seeing a ghost, which was nothing to fear these days.

MacCready's lips trembled as he racked his brain for an explanation. Remi stood still, her arms crossed over her chest, and waited for him to say something. “Um, I have to go somewhere for a few weeks,” he finally said. 

“So, I'm coming with.”

“No.”

A certain sort of tension sparked between the two. Nora shifted her weight uncomfortably, wondering if she should leave the two alone or not. Anxiety rose inside Remi – he was leaving? Leaving her here alone with all these people she barely knew? Sure, he trusted them, but it didn't mean that she did yet. 

“I have something I need to take care of,” MacCready continued when her betrayed silence met him. “You'll see me again, don't worry.” 

Although he meant it partially as a joke, Remi took the full force of this in. She surveyed his arms, and how she should've just asked him to lie with her again. Then, her emotions shifted. So what if he left? He did his part in bringing her here. She didn't need him.

So, with a downcast, struggling smile, she nodded. “Safe travels. Don't get yourself killed out there.”

MacCready's gaze met hers. Surprisingly, she swore she saw a hint of despondency swirling about the blue pools. “Stay safe, Remi.”

And with that, Remi and Nora saw him out the gates of Sanctuary Hills, dark clouds gathering in the distance.


	10. Come Away With Me

Remi's body pulsated with a dull ache. Her muscles had been throbbing for hours, begging her to sit down and rest for just a moment, but she was resilient if nothing else. The last thing she wanted was another threat of a Raider attack on Sanctuary Hills. 

A rusted hammer in her hand, she cast a wistful glance down the side of the fence she'd been pounding nails into all day, trying to repair the damage that had been done earlier in the week. Two holes left. If she worked quickly enough, she'd be done by sundown. Hopefully. 

“Those arms of yours are getting bigger than mine, Remi.”

Any other person would have received a shriek and a blind kick to the knee, but not Sturges. In the two weeks Remi had been at Sanctuary Hills, he'd learned just how to approach with caution when she was focused on something else. He was soft with her, both in his touch and his tone. Remi wouldn't admit it, but she adored that about him. 

She turned toward him and surveyed the amiable smirk on his face. “You sound intimidated,” she said sultrily. Taking note of the bottle of clear liquid in his hand, she brought her gaze back to his. “Thirsty?”

Without hesitation, Sturges offered it to her, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Actually, I was wondering if you were.” 

Beside Preston, Sturges was the most generous person she'd met so far. As she took a gracious sip from the bottle – the hint of metal was barely noticeable this time – Remi thought back on her first true encounter with him. 

It had been after a late night of farming. Her fingers and back ached, there had been a sharp pain behind her left eye, and after what seemed like hours of wandering about the settlement, Remi declared herself lost. In the darkness, all the houses looked the same. Most everyone had gone to bed, the dim lights shining from their windows off. She'd walked the street twice before the panic began to set in. Then, as if sensing that she was only seconds away from shaking someone awake for directions, Sturges emerged from the shadows and greeted her with a gentle smile. He'd offered an arm to her, and although she declined the strange invitation, led her back to her home and bid her a goodnight. 

It felt like ages ago. Had it been a week? Or two? 

Lately, it seemed, Remi was having trouble keeping track of time. 

“Thanks,” she muttered a bit breathlessly. She shook the bottle, cringing only slightly at the near emptiness. She hadn't meant to toss almost all of it down her throat, but it did help to soothe the scorched sensation that had been building up throughout the day. “Sorry. I didn't realize I was so thirsty.”

“Don't fret over it.” Offering the same compassionate smile he usually wore around her, Sturges took the bottle and jutted his chin toward the remaining holes in the fence. “Why don't you leave those for Sasha? Might give her an excuse to leave that house.”

And just like that, Remi's mood crumpled. She sighed, partly in annoyance and partly in exhaustion. Dropping the hammer against the fence, she strolled alongside Sturges as they began for her home. “I doubt she'll take even a step outside,” she mused, frowning at the single light shining through the window in the distance. “I think she's convinced that everyone besides me has some kind of disease.”

A hearty chuckle rumbled from Sturges' mouth. “I've noticed. We all have. You're sure you've never met her before?”

“Positive.”

They came to a stop on the doorstep, an awkward silence filling the space between them. As much as Remi genuinely enjoyed his company, she despised parting ways. It was always the same routine: they would look at each other for a few moments, both waiting for the other to act, and Remi would eventually open her mouth. 

“Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

The dejection was obvious on Sturges' face. His mouth, which had flashed a frown, twitched before splitting into a forced smile. “Have a good night, Remi.” Leaning downward, his lips pressed softly to her cheek before he turned and headed for the community house. 

Sighing, Remi shook her head and entered her own home, only to come face-to-face with her new roommate. With striking blue eyes and long hair the same shade of blonde as Remi's, Sasha had only her looks going for her. She'd arrived alone at Sanctuary Hills three days before and, after being assigned to Remi's house by Preston, refused to leave or speak to anyone except Remi. 

“Oh, hey,” Remi greeted meekly, avoiding the doll-like stare that was being thrown her way. 

“Why didn't you kiss him?” asked Sasha. She spoke as rapidly as always. Her sentences usually sounded as if they were a single, elongated word. 

It took Remi a second to realize who Sasha was talking about. “Sturges? I-I don't know. We're not really like that with each other.”

“Why not?”

Rolling her eyes, Remi stepped around her and started for the bedroom. “Don't you have something better to do than interrogate me?” she snapped. “Try talking to people for once!”

Remi sprawled out on her bed, a deep yawn escaping her mouth. A stubborn feeling of guilt gnawed at her for the way she treated Sasha. When the timid girl had first wandered into the settlement, trembling and doe-eyed, Remi pitied her. She'd been new not long ago and once MacCready had left, it took everything she had in her to adjust. So when Sasha immediately approached her and introduced herself, Remi had pushed herself to come across as amiably as she possibly could. 

But after a day and a half of Sasha's constant stream of personal questions and infuriating habit of watching Remi like a hawk, she had snapped. The false pretenses had shattered.

Gazing at her cracked ceiling, Remi forced Sasha from her mind and thought of MacCready. Although she wouldn't admit it, she missed him terribly. Since his departure, she wondered every day for two weeks where he'd gone and if he was even still alive. For a while, she kept her hopes high that he would send word of his journey, but after a week of silence, Remi gave up and did her best to push out the nagging desire to just hear his voice. 

Yet, her best was never enough. His face still managed to flicker through her mind multiple times a day. 

A knock at the bedroom door hushed Remi's thoughts. “Remi?” came Sasha's voice. “Are you sleeping?”

“Oh my God,” Remi mouthed, rolling over to face her back toward the door. Just as it opened, she closed her eyes, feigning sleep. 

“Remi?” Sasha whispered as she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. With a cautious shake, she repeated the name until Remi opened her eyes and narrowed them to a glare. 

Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “What?”

“I just really think you should have kissed Sturges,” Sasha scolded. The maternal tone only added fuel to Remi's ire. “I mean, he really likes you. It's easy to tell.”

Lodging her teeth into the inside of her cheek, Remi sat up and caught Sasha's gaze through the dim light of a candle struggling to remain aflame in the corner. There were so many things Remi wanted to say – yell, rather. After giving herself a moment to collect herself, she decided to express herself in a way Nora would. Cool, calm, and definitely not on the verge of ripping Sasha's head off. 

“I have been awake for a very long time,” she said in the softest way she could muster. “I'm exhausted and talking about my nonexistent relationship with Sturges is the last thing I feel like doing right now.” Something inside her cracked. “So, I suggest you give me some peace and quiet, and leave me the fuck alone for the night.”

Even in the darkness of the room, Remi could see the hurt on Sasha's face. She looked as if Remi had just slapped her. Still, the questions continued. 

“There's someone else, isn't there?” Sasha accused. “You need to stop leading Sturges on then.” Turning sharply, she bolted from the room without giving Remi a chance to stutter out an answer, slamming the door shut behind her. 

Remi let out a petulant huff and sank back against the mattress. For hours, she tossed and turned as Sasha's words ate at her. It was so absurd to think that there was someone else. That wasn't the reason why she turned down Sturges' advances. Then again, what were the reasons?

Sturges was the sweetest man Remi had ever met, aside from Preston. He was strong, capable, and more than willing to drop his projects when she asked him for help with chores that required more muscle than she had. Always concerned for her safety, he was adamant about walking her home after the sun had set. He'd even proposed the idea of teaching her how to shoot a gun, though she was still undecided about that. 

Logically, she should have been undeniably attracted to him. Lingering on every word that came out of his mouth. Scrounging for seconds to spend with him. But that wasn't Remi's reality – not in the slightest. 

She couldn't give herself to Sturges when MacCready constantly plagued her thoughts.

Maybe Sasha was right, Remi reflected as her heavy eyelids shut for the final time that night. Maybe there was someone else.

(~)

There was the knocking again.

Remi stirred, wiped the fresh trail of drool from her cheek, and dragged herself from her bed. She found herself astonished that the sound wasn't coming from her bedroom door, but the front door instead. That meant someone other than Sasha was the reason why she was rising with the sun. 

Half asleep, Remi made her way into the hallway, groaning inwardly at the booming snores coming from Sasha's room. Of course she wouldn't wake as easily as Remi. Or was she simply faking it to get out of answering the door? Remi didn't doubt it. 

The knocking was relentless when Remi entered the living room. “Okay, okay!” she called out. “I only want to move so fast!”

The moment she opened the door, time crept to a halt. Sporting his signature cocky grin and a new cut just below his left eye, MacCready stood before her, looking as drained as she felt. A breath caught in Remi's throat as she stared him down. 

No, she figured. This was a dream. It had to be. She was still sound asleep in her bed. 

And so, she closed the door only to jolt at the sound of three more knocks. 

“Should I come back later?” MacCready suggested, his voice muffled. 

Remi panicked and, not wanting to give the impression that she didn't want to see him, yanked the door open once more. “Am I dreaming or are you real?” she demanded to know. 

MacCready offered his hands to her, palms facing upward. “I'm about as real as it gets,” he said, his grin appearing again. She touched him gingerly at first. Starting from his calloused fingertips, Remi felt as skin as if he were made of the finest glass, and eventually pressed her palms against his. “Remi, are you okay? You're kind of freaking me out here.”

Remi met his apprehensive stare and cracked a smile of her own. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she whispered. “I'm just...Holy fuck, you're alive!”

Nudging his hands to his sides, she brought herself into him. They moved in sync, it seemed. As Remi circled her arms around his waist, MacCready snaked his around her shoulders and drew her in closer. She took in his scent of cigarettes and gunpowder, and noted the warmth radiating from his skin. 

It clicked. 

Sturges wasn't warm in his touch. His fingers were always icy, his arms chilly. Even his lips left a cold imprint on her skin. 

But MacCready had always been warm and it had left Remi craving. 

“Remi? You okay out here? I thought I heard a guy--”

Emerging from the hallway, Sasha froze in her tracks at the sight of the embrace. MacCready peered over the top of Remi's head, let out an almost inaudible gasp, and immediately took a step back. Remi, absolutely bewildered, looked between the two before speaking up.

“Uh, do you want to come in for a bit?” she asked MacCready, who continued to gaze at Sasha as if she were a ghost. 

“Actually,” he replied, bringing his gaze back to Remi's, “let's go for a walk. Sunrises are the best part of the day.”

Remi snatched the opportunity without hesitation. She would be able to talk with him and Sasha wouldn't be around. It almost seemed too good to be true. 

Together, she and MacCready ventured out into the neighborhood, waving to Preston as he passed by with a scowling Marcy. The woman had yet to treat Remi any differently than the day they met. Marcy simply ignored her presence and Remi was more than content with it. 

“I'm honestly surprised that you answered the door,” MacCready confessed as they headed toward the massive tree at the end of the street. “I figured you would have escaped once I left.”

Remi shrugged and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “It's not so bad here. I haven't been murdered yet and everyone is pretty nice. Well, except Marcy. She'll probably be the one to murder me when the time comes.”

A brisk wind danced between the two. Remi flexed her fingers, trying to imagine the warmth of her hand in MacCready's. Would he think it weird, she wondered, if she reached out for it? She decided against it and soldiered on.

“She did lose her kid not too long ago,” MacCready defended. His gaze fell to the ground in front of them, a distant sadness about his eyes. “I can't imagine what she's going through right now.”

Remi kicked at a rock, watched it land a few feet away, and came to a stop. She turned to admire the the view of Sanctuary Hills from the hill they'd trekked up. Fresh sunlight blazed into the settlement, illuminating surfaces of houses and casting shadows on others. 

“I'm glad you didn't leave,” MacCready commented. He stood a foot away from her, watching her watch the community. Even from that distance, she could've sworn she felt his heat. “I wouldn't have been able to find you if you did.”

“You were looking for me?” Remi threw him a confused sideways glance. “Why?”

MacCready fished into his own pocket and produced a pair of cigarettes. He handed one to Remi and placed the other between his lips. She nearly jumped for joy; finding a spare cigarette in Sanctuary Hills was like surviving a nuclear winter. It just didn't happen. So when MacCready lit hers with a dented flip lighter and she pulled in a long drag, she had to fight the urge to kiss him right then and there. 

“I was actually looking for Nora,” he admitted before lifting a fist to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “But Preston told me she isn't here. I figured I'd stop by and see how you're holding up.”

The pang of jealousy that Remi considered to be long gone hit her hard. The only pro to MacCready being away was that she didn't have to feel that way. She was fully aware that it was irrational – there was nothing between him and Nora – but she couldn't help it.

“I'm, uh, holding up just fine, as far as I can tell.” Beside the creepy roommate and a man who she would soon need to disappoint. “I just keep to myself for the most part. Why were you looking for Nora?”

“I need her help with something.”

“What kind of something?”

MacCready shook his head, chuckling. “Since when did you become so nosy?” he teased. “If you must know, I found some medicine for...someone who really needs it, but I can't get to it alone.”

Remi's eyes flashed to his, her face alight. “I can help. Hey, don't give me that look! I'm good for more than just fixing holes in fences.” She paused, the sight of Sasha peering out the window of the house catching her attention. “I need time away from that one, too. She's driving me nuts.”

Nodding the moment he saw who Remi was looking at, MacCready snuffed out the rest of his cigarette on the bottom of his boot and tapped it back into the pack. 

“We can leave now if you're ready.”

“Let's do it.”


	11. A Father's Love

Leaving Sanctuary Hills wasn't quite as simple as Remi had planned. She figured she would just make her way back to the house, gather her belongings, and trudge out of the settlement without any hassle. 

Wrong. 

“RJ! How've you been, man?”

Sturges, his forever faithful smile playing on his lips, gave the pair a wave as he hustled across the narrow street. MacCready stopped in his tracks, mirrored the joyful expression, and caught the handyman in a half-hug, half-handshake. Remi stood to the side, anxiously rubbing the edge of her shirt between her pointer finger and thumb. 

“Hey! Long time, no see!” MacCready said once they stepped away from each other. 

For at least five minutes, they drifted off into their own conversation. Remi spent the time eyeing Sasha, who stood in plain view at the window of the house. The girl's empty stare forced an army of goosebumps onto Remi's arms and legs. She grimaced disdainfully and turned to the men at the sound of her name.

“...actually on our way out, aren't we, Remi?”

Remi's gaze ripped from Sasha and landed on MacCready. “Uh, uh-huh,” she muttered, wishing she would have at least attempted to listen in on what they were talking about. 

Sturges gave a small nod and absentmindedly scratched at his scraggly beard. “Just take care of her, okay? I'm not sure I could stand losing another person I care about.”

His words were like a stab to Remi's heard. A stab and a twist with a sharp, molten blade. It was the first time he had made her feel so terrible, and the worst part was was that he wasn't even trying to do it. Remi swallowed the lump of guilt in her throat and pursed her lips. 

“I can take care of myself,” she shot back, though not in her bitter manner. She said it gently, as if she feared her tone would break him. Maybe it would, but she doubted it. Sturges was the strongest men she knew. “I'm just tagging along to keep MacCready out of trouble.”

MacCready snorted in reply. “Yeah, you wish.”

They moved onto the house next so Remi could grab her backpack and her crowbar. _Her crowbar._ It had been much too long since she touched the thing. 

After the run-in with the Raiders, Remi kept the weapon tied to her waist at all times. She jumped and grabbed for it at every unexpected noise. It took four days before she forgot it in her bedroom and continued to forget it everyday since. 

“This place hasn't changed,” MacCready commented as the entered the bedroom. 

“What place?” Sasha inquired, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “The window? The bed? Have you slept in this bed before?”

MacCready flinched away from her and immediately took two steps back. 

“Sasha, for fuck's sake!” Remi snapped, grasping her crowbar tightly. “For the last time, _get out_!”

Sasha lingered for a moment longer to study MacCready. Remi paused, the flare of anger subsiding for a moment. The way they stared each other down confused her. Sasha, while looking as if he had just called her the worst name anyone could imagine, glowered. And MacCready...Well, MacCready seemed as if he were staring at a ghost. 

Without another word, Sasha stomped away, making sure they were aware she was stomping. 

MacCready turned to Remi, his brows curved inward toward the middle. “My housemate,” Remi explained, zipping up her backpack. “Don't take her weirdness personally. She hates everyone except me. She'd probably in love with me or something.”

“Yeah,” MacCready mumbled, concern swirling about his gaze. “Probably.”

(~)

“So, are you going to let me in or keep me in the dark?”

“What?”

“I need _details,_ man. What's this medicine? Who's it for?”

Remi hooked her thumbs around the straps of her backpack, double-timing her pace to match MacCready's. At first, he didn't look at her, though her stare was locked on his face and tracing the narrow slope of his nose. He allowed a moment of silence to pass before glancing sideways at her. 

“Have you ever seen blue boils grow on someone's body?” he asked, cringing. 

Remi almost giggled. It was too absurd for her to picture in her mind's eye. She stopped herself short, however, when the corners of MacCready's mouth tugged downward. 

“No, never.”

The streets of Concord were eerily silent. During the nights, Remi could sometimes hear the echoes of gunshots or the cries of creatures wandering the streets. The daytime should have proved for even more activity, but there wasn't a single living person or animal around with the exception of the duo. It gave her a sickeningly uneasy feeling and she kept her crowbar in her hand, ready to strike at any given moment. 

MacCready seemed hesitant to give Remi details. His lips trembled, as if he were searching for the right way to push out his next words. “My...My son,” he finally said. “That's who the medicine is for.”

A son. He had a son. 

Remi caught herself before her feet came to a stop. Her heart tumbled and the sharp breath she drew in left her mouth feeling dry. “You have a son,” she murmured, avoiding his curious stare. “He, uh, he's the one with the boils?”

MacCready nodded. A collapsed streetlight groaned against his weight as he stepped on it. “Sometimes I forget you hardly know anything about me,” he admitted, “and that I don't really know anything about you. Before I came to the Commonwealth, I grew up in a place called Little Lamplight.”

There was a flash of movement in the corner of Remi's eye, but when she turned her gaze, she saw nothing. “I don't think I've ever heard of a place called that,” she told him. She couldn't bring herself to look at his face. 

“I didn't expect you to. It's in the Capital Wasteland, near D.C. A society in a cave, run entirely by kids.”

At this, Remi couldn't hold back her laughter, though her heart and her stomach were in knots. “A cave?!” she repeated, coughing in the midst of her giggles. “Run by kids?! You're kidding me, right?”

MacCready flushed, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “Yes, Remi, a cave!” he snapped. “And I was the mayor!”

“Oh my God, _you_?! A _mayor_?!” Her cackles bounced off the buildings, reverberating around them. “Now I know you're fucking with me!”

He groaned, shook his head, and hissed, “You know what? If you're just going to make fun of me, you can forget about any information.”

Biting down on her lip to stifle herself, Remi flexed her fingers around her crowbar and exhaled slowly. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll shut up now until you're done talking.”

“Don't strain yourself.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, I left Little Lamplight when I turned sixteen. By then, Duncan had just been born and Lucy and I were already married.”

Married. MacCready was married. To a Lucy. 

Remi realized it actually was a strain to keep herself quiet. She had so many questions. Who was Lucy? How old was she? What did she look like? Where was she now? Why wasn't he with her? Then, a thought struck her: she'd slept in the same bed as a married man. She shivered, but said nothing. 

“We had a farm after we left and things were going great,” MacCready continued, pouring salt into the wound in Remi's heart. “But then...the boils started showing up on Duncan's skin. He'd scream all night because of the pain, and Lucy and I...we just didn't know what to do. When I started for the Commonwealth, he was too weak to walk.”

“Is that where Lucy is?” Remi asked. She couldn't help herself. “Back with Duncan?”

She wished she would've just kept her mouth shut. MacCready's eyes clouded as he turned his head from her. “No,” he answered, his voice thick. “No, Lucy...She died.”

“Oh, I-I'm sorry.” 

They passed a small camp. Vacant, it seemed, save the two landmines on the ground. Orange lights blinked atop their circular bodies, just waiting for an unsuspecting person or animal to walk across them. Remi took notice right away and nudged her shoulder into MacCready, steering him from the danger. He gave her a curious look and she jutted her chin toward the mines. 

“Thanks for that,” he said softly, his eyes straying from her face and toward the camp as it disappeared behind a small hill.“I wouldn't have seen them in time.”

Remi shrugged. “I have a good eye sometimes. Anyway, go on.”

But MacCready remained silent. 

They traveled in the quiet for what felt like hours. Avoiding the cracks and potholes in the roads, Remi hopped over them with ease and wondered how deep they were through the puddles of water that had gathered since the last rainfall. She hoped the storms were gone for at least a few months, but an angry boil of clouds had been forming in the distance since the night before. Her stomach churned whenever she looked their way. 

A scent entered Remi's nose at a point where the bare trees were becoming less frequent and the lopsided phone poles seemed to have a meeting purpose. She could hear muffled voices from afar and saw billows of smoke rise into the sky. She threw MacCready a weary look, but he paid no mind to her. Her fingers were rigid around her crowbar. 

Passing underneath a billboard advertising Nuka-Cherry (Remi's least favorite flavor), MacCready turned his head toward a young man who couldn't have been any older than Remi. He ran directly in front of them and stopped in the middle of the broken road, the sights of his gun resting on MacCready. Much to Remi's surprise, he simply stopped and held his hands up. 

“We're armed,” MacCready warned. “We aren't dangerous unless you are.”

“Passing by?” the man snapped, his gun remaining in place. 

“Just passing by unless you have anything for trade.”

Remi stared, dumbfounded. Interactions like this were as foreign to her as feeling excited for the new flavor of Nuka-Cola. During her trips outside Diamond City, she rarely encountered people who talked before pulling the trigger. 

“Names?” the man demanded. 

“MacCready.” There was a short pause, a tension in the air. “I'm a friend of Nora's.”

The man's gun swung to aim at Remi. Her heart plummeted as he barked, “Name?”

“U-Uh, I'm, uh...” Oh, hell. Why did she always forget her name during times like this? “Uh, Remi! I'm also a friend of Nora's.” To say she was a friend was an exaggeration, but it worked. The man's gun lowered and he nodded.

“Any friend of Nora's is a friend of ours,” he said, all hostility in his tone gone. “Welcome to the Starlight Drive-In. Our projectors are currently down, so we aren't playing any movies.” He cracked a smile at his own joke, but neither MacCready or Remi found it humorous. 

“We're not stopping here, are we?” Remi murmured as she began walking toward the man. 

“We are this time,” MacCready replied. “I don't travel at night.” 

Starlight Drive-In wasn't as big as Sanctuary Hills, but the population was definitely larger. Sticking close to MacCready's side, Remi surveyed the different types of people who passed them by, giving incredulous glances as they went. Children giggled and screamed as they chased each other around and latched onto their mothers' hands. Even a few Ghouls lingered about, puffing on cigarettes or tending to a farm near an old bus with the tires missing. 

Two rows of wooden houses lined the edges of the settlement, leading up to what appeared to be a gigantic billboard with nothing painted on it. Much of the board had been broken, revealing a staircase behind it. Opposing the billboard, some sort of odd shaped building stood strong. One of the settlers, a man who had given MacCready and Remi an amiable nod as they wandered through, leaned against a counter inside the building. Various items were on display around him. Remi wondered if he had any packs of cigarettes for sale and if she even had enough caps to purchase one. 

“We have rooms for sale,” the man stated. Remi jolted in surprise; she'd been so distracted by her surroundings that she'd forgotten he had been walking in front of them. “Twenty caps a night or one hundred for an entire week. That place there” – he jabbed a finger toward the odd building – “is our main source of food. There ain't any fancy Noodle Cups or anything, but you'll find something edible. Sometimes they sell ammo, if you're looking for any.”

“We're good on ammo,” MacCready replied curtly. Remi arched a brow until he dipped his head lower to hers. “Not safe to let them know what kind of guns we have.”

“Gun,” Remi corrected, keeping her voice low. “We have one gun.” She eyed his sniper rifle. 

“Not the point.”

The man turned on his heel to face them, bringing the pair to an abrupt halt. “That's the whole tour,” he announced, lifting his arms as if to display everything around them. “Make yourself at home.” Without another word, he drifted off into the sea of unknown people.

“First things first,” MacCready said, taking a moment to glance toward the two-story shack with the words “bedz 4 rent” carved into it. “We should probably pay for a room. How many caps do you have?”

Remi dropped her backpack onto the cracked concrete and dug into one of the side pockets. “Um, I have eighteen.” 

“And I have twenty-three.” 

A look of horror flashed across Remi's face. “We're not staying here _another_ night with Mr. Shitty Jokes, are we?”

“Definitely not. C'mon.”

They entered the shack and caught the attention of a woman behind a chipped desk who looked dreadfully bored. She leaned on the surface, her cheek resting in her palm, and dragged her gaze toward the two when the door opened. “We've got one room left,” she said automatically. “Twenty caps a n--”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Remi interrupted, dumping all her caps onto the desk. MacCready threw in two of his and the woman produced a lumpy key. 

“Up the stairs and it'll be the first door on your right.” 

The stairs groaned against the weight as they trudged up them. The interior fascinated Remi. Though the walls were thin, they were as sturdy as wood could be. She pictured how many trees had to be cut down to make just the shack. There had to be at least enough trees to fill Diamond City. 

The room itself wasn't much. A single bed tucked away in the corner, a chair that leaned to the right, and a window covered by a black sheet. The space seemed just large enough for the two of them. A third person would've made for a cramped stay. 

“We couldn't have just kept going?” Remi groaned as she sat on the dirty mattress. The frame gave a cringe-worthy squeak. 

MacCready lifted the sheet over the window and peered out. “Don't think so. I'd say we still have about three miles to go. Besides, the sun is starting to set.” 

Remi huffed and leaned back on her hands. “Might as well get what we can from this place,” she suggested, fastening the straps of her backpack tighter around her arms. “You should lend me some caps and I'll go see if their store has anything good.”

He nearly laughed. “I don't think so. I'll go with you.”

“You can trust me with helping to find meds for your kid, but you can't trust me with a few caps?”

“Exactly.”

(~)

As the sun settled over the faraway mountains, casting streaks of pink and purple across the sky, Remi and MacCready found themselves seated on bar stools on the opposite side of the counter as the trader. Much wider up close, the middle aged father of four gave a cheerful grin once they sat down and proceeded to tell – in detail – all the great things about his children. For the most part, the two let him ramble on until Remi's stomach gurgled.

“I'm sure everything about your kids is fantastic,” she said, grabbing for the first chance she could to get a word in. She thought he'd never take a breath. “Could we get something to eat, though?”

“Yeah,” MacCready chimed in. “We've been traveling all day and haven't had a thing to eat.” All day was an overstatement; they'd wandered around this new place for a few hours. 

“Oh, of course! You'll have to forgive me. Talking about the kids keeps my mind off my wife.” He turned his back toward the two to rummage through a cabinet and fumble with the knobs on a rusted stove. 

Remi's leg bounced underneath the counter, her curiosity clawing its way up her throat. “What happened to your wife?” she asked, although she was certain she already know that answer. 

“She passed about a week ago,” the trader murmured almost too quietly for her to hear. “Shot down by Raiders.”

Remi closed her eyes tightly and let out a sharp huff. Guilt's fingers squeezed at her heart. Of course the guy had a dead wife, and of course Remi had to ask about it in front of MacCready, of all people. 

It took a few moments, but when the trader turned back to them, he provided two plates of roasted carrots and grilled Radstag meat. The smoky scent wafted into their noses and Remi's mouth began to water. She yanked the dented fork from the edge of the counter and stared at her food. “Free of charge,” the trader said. “You two are talented listeners. I appreciate it. Most folks around here aren't.”

Remi and MacCready shared a cautious glance before digging into their food. She was certain that he was thinking the same thing: that they only endured his blabbering because he ran the only place that would fill their bellies. 

Once the old man decided to take a smoke break and sneaked out the door, Remi twisted on her stool, placing the bottoms of her feet on the rungs of MacCready's. “So, who's taking the bed?” 

MacCready swallowed his mouthful of food before answering. “Both of us?” he replied as if it were common sense. 

Using her fork, Remi pushed around a carrot on her plate. Other than a bite of the Ragstag meat, it was all that was left and she was avoiding it like a plague. Carrots had never been her favorite, but she was set on eating it eventually. 

“I don't know if I can do that,” she admitted meekly. 

“Why? We've done it before.”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you have – had a wife then. I know now and I just...don't think I can.” She popped the carrot into her mouth and chewed disdainfully. 

MacCready ran a hand over his face. “Remi.” She hated when he said her name as if it pained him. “You're being stupid. It's not as if we're fu – having sex with each other.” 

It was one thing to imagine it a couple (more like fifteen) times, but to hear him mention the act mangled her stomach. Her face suddenly felt hot and her palms began to sweat. She balled her hands into fists on her lap. “I know that,” she hissed. Why in the world was she so embarrassed? “Can we just figure this out later when there aren't a bunch of people we don't know around?”

“Yeah, sure,” MacCready deadpanned. Like it hurt.

(~)

When the time came to figure it out, Remi still wanted to avoid the subject completely. “I'll just sleep on the floor,” she offered once they were alone in the room. “You can have the bed.”

“It really bugs you that much?”

“Yes! I don't want to sleep with a married man.”

“You're not sleeping with me!” MacCready pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're just sleeping _next_ to me.”

The sky had grown dark, the other residents (aside from the armored guards, who severely intimidated Remi) had locked themselves away in their shambling excuse for homes, and the only noises within a mile radius were the moans of the Brahmin, and Remi and MacCready's bickering. Both insistent on giving the other the bed, their arguing and exasperated sighs were unrelenting. Finally, Remi took a stance and plopped herself onto the rickety chair, yelping and hopping to her feet when it snapped and started to topple over. 

MacCready couldn't hold back a fit of laughter. “I can't believe a chair almost took you out!”

Remi, her face beet red, kicked at the leg of the chair and grunted as it broke off and slid across the room. “Fine!” she barked, shoving past MacCready to get to the bed. “You can take the floor.”

Rolling his eyes, MacCready pushed the damaged chair to the corner of the room and settled himself on the floor, using Remi's backpack as a pillow. She blew out the struggling flame on the candle just above his head and rolled over on the bed, curling herself between the edge of the mattress and the wall. 

A cold breeze danced about the room. Remi folded her arms around herself, wishing a blanket came along with the room. Her fingers ached at a point. She brought them to her mouth and huffed hot breath onto them. The tip of her nose felt icy, so she covered it with the collar of her shirt. 

For a long while, she lay wide-eyed, staring at nothing. Her mind buzzed with the day, focusing mainly on the new information she'd learned about MacCready. A wife and a son. Strangely enough, she felt almost bitter, betrayed. Like he'd been lying to her from the start. Remi knew that wasn't the case; it wasn't as if she'd ever truly inquired about his life before anyway. A deceased wife and a sickly son wasn't a topic of conversation most people bring up when first meeting someone. 

There must've been a point in which she fell asleep because she was suddenly on the other side of the bed. MacCready's arm had climbed over the side of it, his hand securely cupped around her forearm. She could feel his shivers against hers. 

Propping herself on her elbow, Remi reached over with her free hand and peeked out the window. Still pitch black outside. She yawned and lay her head back on the mattress, focusing on the heat radiating from MacCready's palm. 

She rolled onto her back, her am shifting slightly. MacCready's head shot up, a mere shadow in the darkness, and his hand retreated to his side. “What? What happened?” he asked groggily. 

“Nothing happened,” Remi whispered. She traced his figure with her gaze, the yearning for the warmth of his skin growing stronger with each passing moment of silence. “You're cold.”

“That tends to happen when you sleep in a freezing room.”

Remi brought her bottom lip into her mouth to nibble on it. She was torn between her desperate want for him to lie next to her, and the nagging, obsessive reminder that he was married. Widower or not, it didn't change the fact that he belonged to someone else. Throw a kid into the mix and it made for too many confusing emotions piling up inside Remi all at once. 

She leaned over and tugged on his arm, muttering in surrender, “Get up here.”

MacCready didn't resist her pull, but his words made up for his feigned hesitation. “Seriously? After all the grief you gave me earlier?”

“Oh, shut up. I'm just using you for your body heat.”

Faithfully, MacCready, as he clamored onto the bed, placed his sniper rifle on the other side of him in a position that proved easy to grab at a moment's notice. He faced Remi, his arm bent underneath his head. “You do realize you're actually going to have to touch me, right?”

“Like how?” Luckily, he couldn't see her smirk through the darkness. She knew it shouldn't have, but annoying him brought her a ridiculous amount of joy. 

“Turn over.” He sounded much too tired to deal with her shit. 

Remi came to the conclusion that trying to agitate him further wouldn't have been one of her better ideas. She did as he said, nearly shivering as he nudged himself closer to her and draped his arm over the indent of her ribs. She had expected the warmth to start at her toes or fingers, but it grew in her chest the same way it did the first time his arm had been around her like this. 

“Is this going to shatter your moral standing?” MacCready asked sarcastically. 

At first, Remi said nothing. She tried to picture what Lucy looked like – the kind of women MacCready chased after. She imagined a woman of flawless beauty. She imagined Nora. 

“How did Lucy die?”

MacCready tensed and Remi felt it. Placing his chin atop her head, he flexed his fingers as if the movement kick-started his brain into finding the right words. Remi considered grabbing onto his hand. For the warmth, of course. 

“Ghouls,” he managed to croak out. “We picked an old metro to stay in for the night. Didn't realize it was infested with the damn things until it was too late. I barely got Duncan out in time. I can still hear her screaming for me to take him and run. Sometimes...Sometimes I wish I hadn't.”

Remi lay still, her heartbeat pounding away in her ears. She thought of Nora screaming like that while being ripped apart by decayed hands. Her stomach lurched and she forcefully cast that thought from her mind. 

“I'm glad you ran,” Remi murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat and reaching out for his hand. Her fingers fell between his spaces and he tightened his grasp, curling himself even more around her curvature. “I'm sorry for what happened to her. I'm so sorry, but I'm glad you made it out.”

“Remi, I--”

“Hush. I'm not done. I'm glad you're alive and that we ended up not killing each other and that I'm here with you right now. Tomorrow, we're going to get that medication for Duncan and he's going to probably grow up to be as irritating and stubborn and handsome as you are. Okay, now I'm done.” Her heartbeat was louder now in her ears. The word “handsome” had slipped out, but much to her surprise, she was okay with it. It was the truth, after all. 

MacCready pressed his lips to the back of Remi's head, his thumb tracing a line on the surface of her hand. 

“I'm glad, too, that we made it out. For all of it. For you.”


	12. Aim

Med-Tek Research, a building of massive proportions, towered high before Remi and MacCready, casting a bulky shadow over them as they approached it from the remains of a road. Remi's head twisted side to side as she took it all in – the overturned and rusted cars, the trash barrel flame struggling to stay lit, the corroded sign that must have read the name of the company at some point. All of it screamed, “Do not enter! You will most likely die here!”

She snuck a wary glance toward her companion. “This is the only place that we can find Duncan's medicine?”

An echoing clang answered before MacCready could even inhale to speak. Underneath a car, a decaying human body fumbled against the metal, desperately trying to free itself from its bindings. It didn't take long for it to blunder out, leaving behind its right arm in the process. Snarling, it stood to its feet and began a rapid sprint toward the two. 

Instinctively, Remi grabbed for her crowbar, her fingertips only grazing the dented weapon at first. MacCready was already a step ahead of her: the sights of his gun lifted, a bullet whizzed from the barrel after a deafening pop, and the Ghoul collapsed onto the ground, breaking its knee into two pieces. Remi, her breathing heavy and ragged, stared at the mess of the creature. 

“I've never seen one of those before,” she admitted, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. “I knew they existed and everything, but the only Ghouls I've ever seen were the ones that don't try to kill you for no reason.”

“They're out there.” MacCready peered closely at his gun as he replaced the bullet that was now lodged within the mushy brains of the Ghoul. “There are probably more coming thanks to that gunshot. We should get a move on.”

With haste, the two bustled up the staircase leading to the double doors. It took both of them to pry them open. Groaning and squeaking, the entrance parted, allowing them access into the dusty, abandoned facility.

A lobby met them the moment they stepped through the threshold. Capsized chairs, moldy cardboard boxes, and papers of various size and color littered the room, surrounding a sturdy desk. A computer had been nestled on the corner of the desk, emitting a subtle electric whine. 

“All right,” MacCready said, taking the initiative to further explore the room. “We need to find the executive terminal first. Sinclair said that's the only way we can override the facility's lockdown.”

“Sinclair?” 

“The guy who told me about all this.”

Remi wanted to trust MacCready completely, but the story seemed to be filled with plenty of holes. Who was Sinclair exactly? How could they know the medicine was actually here if the entire place was in lockdown? It all seemed fishy to her, but she stuck around anyway. 

MacCready fitted himself behind the desk and began to type away at the ancient, cracked keyboard. Meanwhile, Remi surveyed everything on the desk and above it. There was a clock hanging overhead, although she couldn't tell what time it was. Most clocks looked the same with both of the black bars nearly reaching the ten. Even if they were still operational, she would've been left in the dark. Reading a clock was something her mother was just beginning to teach her before...before...

Remi's heart twisted. How did her mother die again?

“No, this isn't it,” MacCready murmured, pulling Remi from her reverie. He stood from the office chair and huffed in irritation. “I doubted it would be that easy, but I still got my hopes up. Okay, let's keep looking.”

The moment his voice filled the space, her mother's face vanished from her thoughts. 

They continued on, searching every door on the way. One with a lock used back in Diamond City stopped Remi in her tracks as she clutched it. “Hey, wait,” she called, motioning MacCready back toward her. “I think I can pick this.” Swinging her backpack onto the floor, she fished inside a smaller pocket for a moment before holding a browned bobby pin toward the lock. The internal mechanics had certainly been damaged over time, but after a few grunts of effort, the lock clicked open. 

MacCready peered down at her, his brows raised. “I'm impressed, Remi,” he admitted. “Usually that takes me at least four tries.”

Remi couldn't help but grin in pride. “Years of practice. It really helps when you're starving and you know there's food on the other side of the door.”

“I bet it does.” 

The newly opened room was in the same state as the lobby: destroyed and seemingly deserted in a hurry. Another computer had been placed on a desk. MacCready rushed to it and began the same ritual, only to sigh in disappointment shortly after. Remi, however, looked inside every container she could find, taking things that she figured would come in handy someday. Most of the drawers and boxes contained items she didn't care much about. 

“Hey, look,” she whispered after yanking open a locker. A gun had been stored on a shelf inside. It looked like something the Diamond City security guards would use. 

MacCready was behind her in an instant, craning his neck to look over her shoulder. “Nice!” he exclaimed, reaching over to snatch it from her grasp. “It's a 10mm Pistol. Here, since you don't have a gun.” Holding it back toward Remi, he tilted his head ever so slightly when she merely stared at it. “What?”

The heat of embarrassment kissed Remi's cheeks. “I don't really...know how,” she confessed meekly. 

“Don't know how to what? Hold it?”

“I know how to hold it! Just not use it, I guess.”

It was the deep, throaty chuckle that almost sent Remi into a fit of anger. Almost. MacCready grabbed for her hand, curling it around the gun with his palms. “This is how you'll hold it when you shoot,” he explained, forming himself behind her. “You'll lift it so you can see through the sights. See what I mean?”

“I-I think so.”

“And when the baddies line up with the sights, you'll squeeze the trigger as hard as you can.” He gently used his pointer finger to press Remi's against the trigger, but released before any bullets escaped the chamber. “Pretty easy, if I do say so myself.” Checking the weapon for ammo, he made a note that there were only four bullets left and advised her to use them wisely. “We don't know what sort of things we'll find in here, so it'll be better if we're prepared.”

Many of the rooms they found themselves in did them no good. It seemed that it had been ransacked long ago for anything valuable. All that was left was broken furniture, malfunctioning terminals, and sentimental items such as pictures of families or birthday cards that had fallen off desks. It wasn't until they came across an office full of cubicles that Remi felt an actual sense of danger. 

MacCready's foot accidentally collided with a metal wastebasket, sending it soaring across the room and crashing into a shelving unit. Odd trinkets and devices clattered to the ground, followed by a harmonized chorus of moans. Remi's blood ran cold as she spied two, three, four hands with twitching fingers appear from underneath the desks. Bodies followed suit, their rancid odor wafting all around them the moment they became apparent. 

“Crap!” hissed MacCready, readying his gun to fire. 

Instead of reaching for her own gun, Remi avoided it like a plague. She settled for her crowbar, tightening her grasp around it immediately. The Ghouls were on them in no time. While MacCready lodged bullets into their skulls, Remi let out shrieks as she delivered the crowbar into the sides of their necks, their eye sockets, and their mouths. Bile threatened to rise from her stomach with each kill; the monsters were much more repulsive up close. Pale yellow puss leaked from their ears and the lacerations on their face, maggots squirmed in pockets all over their leathery skin, and feces coated what little clothing still draped off their bodies. 

One Ghoul in particular caught Remi by surprise. She felt the sting of something on her skin above the backpack before the burning set in. Yelping in agony, she fell to her knee just as a bony hand swiped at the space where her face had just been. For a split second, she saw red and her arms acted on their own. She reclaimed her grasp around the crowbar and turned sharply, delivering the tip straight through the Ghoul's abdomen. Its skin ripped open like wet paper, spilling rotted organs onto the floor between them. Remi rushed to crawl away from it all, but the Ghoul was intent on taking her with it. 

It reached toward her, spasms erupting throughout the muscles of its arms and legs. Deciding it best not to see death coming right for her, Remi covered her eyes with her arm, kicking her legs about wildly. Additional pain never came, and the groans and growls quieted after a dull _thump._ Remi lowered her arm, opening her eyes with hesitation. 

MacCready stood between her and the motionless Ghoul, his gun in the same position as he had it while ramming the butt of it into the Ghoul's head. His body stood rigid, save for the slight tremble, and his breathing came out in arduous bursts. He didn't turn to look at Remi; his focus was much too glued to the Ghoul. 

After taking a moment to pull herself together, Remi crawled to her feet, wincing at the sharp pain along her back. She maneuvered herself around the Ghoul to stand directly in front of MacCready, who looked as if he'd checked out into a world of his own. His eyes were wide, his lips just barely parted. Remi grabbed at his forearms, giving a gentle shake. 

“MacCready?” she whispered. “Hey, c'mon. Look at me.” 

It took a short time, but MacCready did finally blink and bring his horrified gaze to her. The blue pools flicked about her face, studying her intently. Then, before Remi had the chance to process what was going on, MacCready holstered his gun to his back, turned her body in a jerking motion, and tore the backpack from her body. She attempted to bark out some sort of protest, but the back of her shirt had already been lifted and MacCready was hissing for her to stay still. 

With his left hand, he tugged on her wrist, silently telling her to sit down. She did as he wanted without objection, allowing him to push the shirt over her head, revealing her bare back and stomach. Rustling was heard from behind her, the sound of a zipper. 

“What are you doing?” Remi finally asked. 

“Making sure this doesn't get infected.” MacCready's tone was curt, like he didn't want to be bothered with anything except tending to her wound. 

The possibility of infection hadn't crossed Remi's mind. Rapping her fingertips on the floor in front of her, she inquired, “Is it that bad?”

There was no reply. 

MacCready's palm pressed to the wound, causing a new sort of pain to surge through her. It didn't hurt as bad as the attack itself, but it still forced her to inhale sharply. Whatever was on his hand was cold and prickly, but relieved most of the pain in a few quick moments. After a moment more, it was as if she had never been hurt in the first place. 

Instead of scooting away from her after he finished applying the remedy, MacCready's forehead fell on the back of her right shoulder. “This was a mistake,” he muttered lowly. “I shouldn't have asked you for your help.”

Remi twisted her body, shaking him from her support, and glared backward at him. “Seriously?” she snapped. “You say that now? Well, it's too late for regrets. I'm in this with you for the long haul.”

A bitter smirk tugged at MacCready's lips as he stood and held a hand out for her. “I've never met someone so stubborn,” he said. “That's a compliment, by the way.”

(~)

“This has to be it! It just has to be!”

Remi followed closely behind MacCready, entering an office that must have belonged to somebody very important at one time. Ripped couches lined the walls, bursting file cabinets leaned against one another, and an eloquent desk stood in the middle of it all. The sniper hopped over debris on his way to the computer on the desk, avoiding a mess of shattered glass that surrounded it. 

“Sinclair's password better work,” he thought aloud, “or we're screwed.”

Leaning over his shoulder as he slammed his fingertips on the keyboard, Remi glanced at herself in the reflection of the screen. She looked worse for wear: a bruise was forming around her eye and a tiny, angry gash sliced its way across her cheek. Part of her wanted to retreat back to Sanctuary Hills for her chance at a bath, but Sasha's face flashed through her mind. A shudder racked through her. 

Letters scattered about the screen once MacCready had finished typing. His eyes moved side to side in a fluid motion as he read, his pointer finger clacking away at a single key. After a final click, one of the two of the obnoxious alarms that Remi had grown accustomed to long ago silenced. “Thank God that worked,” MacCready commented. “We can get down to the sub-level now. That's where Med-Tek should be storing the cure.”

Moving right along, MacCready retraced their steps, eventually bringing them back to a room they had passed before the Ghoul attack. An airlock door was tucked away in the corner, one they couldn't get into before. Now, with the help of the terminal attached to the wall, MacCready was able to force the doors open with ease. He turned toward Remi, offered a thumbs up, and flashed her a smile. 

Her stomach flipped as she returned the gesture. 

Remi took the lead without thinking too much on it. They passed through the eerie airlock chamber and attempted to turn the corner into the next room. A dazzling red laser beam shot past her, just barely missing her nose. MacCready's fingers gripped the back of her shirt and yanked her toward him. Tripping over her own feet, Remi collapsed into him, pushing them both to the ground.

“What the fuck is that thing?!” she hollered through the tangle of limbs.

“Laser turrets,” MacCready responded as they scrambled to their feet, taking a brisk peek around the corner. Another laser trail whizzed past, but he moved back with more time to spare. His gaze traveled, searching for something in particular, until it landed on Remi's backpack strap. “Give it to me.”

Remi's arms reached back to touch the faded fabric. “You're out of your mind!” she yelped, taking a step from him. “Use something of yours!”

“I don't have anything big enough!” he shot back. “All you have in there are those disgusting snack cakes and a bunch of junk!” 

“It isn't junk! And they aren't disgusting!”

Fed up with her immaturity, MacCready groaned and grabbed for the straps. Remi wrestled against him, but realized just how much stronger he was than her after a short while. She gave up with a shout and pushed herself from the backpack, flipping him off in the process. 

MacCready unzipped it, reached inside, and tossed the remaining cakes to her, which she sloppily caught against her chest. She expected him to be finished with it by then, but another round of digging through it produced an unlabeled black cream tube. “What's that?” she asked, ire replaced by curiosity. 

“Honestly, I don't know. I bought it back at the Drive-In from a passing trader. He said it's a miracle cream that heals all sorts of wounds.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Normally I wouldn't spend caps for something like this, but I figured it would prove its worth.”

A fleeting itch gnawed at Remi's back. She'd forgotten about the wound altogether and found herself grateful that he had decided to buy whatever the stuff was. 

After emptying everything from the backpack, MacCready tossed it unceremoniously into the next room, grimacing at the deafening sounds of the lasers firing at it. He wasted no time vaulting over a desk that poked into view from the airlock chamber. Remi resisted the immense urge to risk her life to see what was going on, but the turret died down before the urge took control. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Should be safe now!” MacCready called.

Remi emerged from her hiding spot, taking a cautious glance around the new room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything still appeared to be destroyed. “What'd you do?”

“Disabled the turrets. Apparently, everything in this place is controlled by terminals.”

“Luckily for us,” Remi replied, kicking at a tin can on the floor, “you're pretty good with terminals.”

“I just know what Nora taught me. She's the real brainiac.” He turned back to the screen and continued to fiddle with it. Somewhere down the hallway, the echoed sound of multiple doors opening bounced off the walls and into Remi's ears, followed by the dreadful growls she was unfortunately becoming familiar with now. MacCready's frantic eyes snapped up toward the source of the noise. “Get over here,” he deadpanned. 

“What?”

“I said get over here, Remi! Now!”

It was as if the despair in his tone lit a fire underneath her feet. In the blink of an eye, Remi mimicked MacCready's earlier movements and leapt over the desk to find him furiously tinkering with the keyboard. She ducked, fearful of the lasers that had come to life once again. Together they sat huddled behind the safety of the desk, waiting for the dying moans and croaks of the Ghouls to come to an end. After what felt like hours, the only remaining noise was that of a turret experiencing a failure in performance; it fired endlessly at a pile of ashy flesh and bones. 

MacCready's hand snaked up to the keyboard and he vigilantly went to work on it again, powering down the turrets to provide a safe passage. Remi, using the edge of the desk, pulled herself up and threw a somber look toward what was left of the backpack. “Goodbye, old friend,” she mused. “I'll always remember you.”

“Get over it,” MacCready scolded as he started on again. “It was just a dumb backpack.”

“Screw you!”

“I'll get you another one if you'll stop crying about it.”

“Who said I was crying?!”

The subsequent rooms confused Remi, leaving her to wonder if they'd been there before or if they were truly making progress. The debris and decorations were very much alike everywhere they turned. It was as if they'd been walking in a circle for who knows how long, until they reached a room in stark comparison to the others. Four cells formed in the corners, each with a massive observation window, a terminal connected to the doors, and a single bed. One, however, served as a home to a Ghoul, who scratched at the window the moment its soulless eyes landed on the pair. 

They approached the window slowly at first. Once it was obvious that the Ghoul had no means of escaping, they stood as close to it as they could, watching it ram its head into the walls and fling its arms about primitively. 

“Weird to think they were like us at one time, huh?” MacCready said. 

Remi nodded, looking up at him. Her gut wretched at his expression – there was no doubt he was thinking of his wife and her fate. His eyes cast a weary stare, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. She grabbed for his hand, leading him away from the Ghoul. “Let's get out of here. We have cure to find, remember?”

(~)

Ghoul after Ghoul after Ghoul. It was a never-ending wave of severely irradiated bodies, of gnashing crooked teeth too close for comfort, of repeated thoughts that this horrid face was going to be the last sight before an untimely death.

Remi leaned against the wall and closed her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Not even ten feet away, MacCready howled over and over again as he pounded in the head of a Ghoul with a microscope he had found. He was running dangerously low on ammo and had convinced himself to conserve what he had left until the end of their mission. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Remi panted. “We've been here for at least a day trying to find this damn medicine.” Aside from the hunger setting in, every inch of her body ached. More than anything, she wanted a bed. Even a mattress would do – anything to rest on for more than five minutes. 

“We're close, okay?” MacCready snarled, chucking the microscope in a random direction. Remi flinched as it slammed against the wall. “It has to be here!”

“How do you know that?!” Rage exploded within Remi. She thrust herself from the wall. “How do you know this Sinclair guy told you the truth?! We could have just wasted all this time wandering around this fucking place for no reason, MacCready! Do you get that?!”

“Because I just know, okay?! We haven't looked everywhere yet!”

As their yells and shouts grew louder, so did a distant banging from somewhere down the next hallway they were headed toward. It climbed over their voices, forcing their breaths to hitch in their throats. Simultaneously, they shifted their focus and took attentive advances toward it. Keeping his footfalls hushed, MacCready led Remi toward one final terminal on the wall, his arm extended with a feeble attempt to keep more creatures from her. 

Forehead and armpits soaked with perspiration, Remi watched as MacCready toyed with the terminal. His finger lingered above a key for longer than her mind could handle; the anxiety was too much. In a swift motion, she reached over and pushed his fingertip onto the surface. The door to their left slammed open. 

A trio of forgotten Ghouls met them as they sauntered through the doorway. Two looked exactly the same as those they had faced before: the definition of death and decay. The third, however, lit up the room with a bright green glow radiating from its skin. Searching the room quickly proved to be impossible as the Ghouls began their jerking sprint at them. 

Remi's crowbar collided first at their kneecaps, a trick she learned four Ghouls prior. Joints were the weakest parts of their bodies – taking out the kneecaps sent them to the floor where she could easily smash in their heads with the bottom of her boot. MacCready mirrored her with the second Ghoul, using his gun in place of the crowbar. 

It almost felt like victory, until the glowing Ghoul hopped over one of the metal tables and made way for them. 

It targeted MacCready first, moving at lightening speed. Gunshots cracked as he fired at the creature. Unfortunately, it was all in vain; the Ghoul was too fast for him to line it up with the sights of the gun. A hard shove sent Remi into the side of a control board, throwing off her sense of reality for a moment. She could have sworn it was a hidden Ghoul who had pushed her, but after getting her bearings, she realized it was MacCready who had done it just before the Ghoul tackled him to the floor, unrelentingly trying to dig its jagged claws into his skin. 

Remi froze at the sight of MacCready wriggling for his life underneath the weight of the Ghoul. Her crowbar had been tossed to the side in all the chaos; she would have no time to chase after it, run back, and smack it against the mutated body. Her mind reeled, and then somewhere far, far away, rain began to spatter against the building. 

A gun. There was a gun. 

Remi's quivering fingers acted before her brain could give instructions. She reached toward her belt, pretending that MacCready's hands were around hers as she lifted the gun, aimed down the sights, and squeezed the trigger repeatedly. As if it were made of some sort of dough, the Ghoul's head seemed to deflate and its body crumpled over. Letting out a cry of disgust, MacCready kicked the lifeless being away from him, hysterically patting off his clothing as he clambered to his feet. 

“Remi!” 

His voice sounded miles away, muffled as if they were trapped underwater. Remi's head swirled, the walls around them swaying with her breathing. MacCready's face appeared before her, his features tangled in distress. He shouted her name again and again, never sounding as close as he truly was. Then, a palm stuck her face, knocking her back to the present. 

“Can you hear me?!” MacCready asked, cupping her cheeks with his palms. His hands were moist with sweat. “Remi, say something!”

Remi blinked once. Twice. “I'm – I'm okay.”

MacCready brought her in close, wrapping his arms around her neck as he tucked her head under his chin. “Do you realize,” he whispered with a breathy, frenzied chuckle, “that I would've been in the process of becoming Ghoul shit right now if it weren't for you?” 

She almost laughed along with him. “I don't think they shit,” she replied before prying herself from him. “Hey, that's the first time I've ever heard you cuss.” 

His half-smirk kept its place. “Should've heard me when I was a kid.” 

With wobbling legs, they pulled each other up, finally able to survey their surroundings. Whatever this place was seemed to be the main spot for experiments: beakers of all sizes lined the tables near skeletal remains of what looked like humans, clipboards were strewn about, and a giant reactor with a hazard sign took up much of the space. The closer Remi stood to it, she noted, the stranger her stomach felt, like she could vomit at any given second. 

“It has to be here,” she declared. “If I were to make a cure to some crazy disease, I'd do it here.” 

They tore the room apart, keeping an eye out for anything that looked like a cure. What exactly did they look like? Doubt began to eat away at Remi the longer they searched, but dissipated as her gaze fell upon a red capsule. She immediately grabbed for it and gave up on trying to read whatever was written on the side. 

“Is this it?” she questioned, holding it out for MacCready. 

He snatched it from her palm and observed it, his mouth breaking into one of the widest grins Remi had ever seen on a person. “This is it!” he cried out. “We did it! We just gave Duncan a fighting chance to live!” 

Taking Remi in his arms, he embraced her so tightly that she feared her spine would snap. Still, she managed to return the hug, wrapping her own arms around his neck and burying her face against his shoulder. 

They both reeked of gunpowder, sweat, and Ghoul guts, but in this moment, neither of them seemed to mind.


	13. A Flame In Your Heart

“So, what's your story?”

Remi threw the mercenary a fleeting glance. “My story?”

“Yeah. I mean, I practically told you every single detail about my life.” MacCready's lips curled into a sardonic grin. “It'd be nice to get the same in return.”

Scoffing, Remi rolled her eyes jokingly, hoping the back and forth banter would be enough to stave off the anxiety swelling inside her. The Med-Tek Research building was eerily quiet without the groans and hisses of the Ghouls. Although she was sure they'd dealt with every decaying body, she still swore she felt eyes on her back as they made their way toward the exit. Every so often, she peered over her shoulder, hoping to catch sight of whoever – or whatever – was trailing them. 

Then again, it could've just been her imagination. 

“I don't think my story is really worth telling,” Remi admitted, kicking aside a chipped coffee mug. “I don't have parents anymore, so it's just me.”

MacCready wasn't buying it. “Sounds boring,” he said. “C'mon, Remi, I put everything out on the table for you. That wasn't easy for me.”

A pang of guilt hit Remi. More than anything, she didn't want to disclose anything about herself. However, MacCready was right: the story about Duncan and Lucy was equally as difficult to tell. She let out a ragged breath and replied, “Maybe once we get out of this place. It's really starting to creep me out.”

“You too, huh?”

Remi's gaze followed his hand as it slid across the belt hidden beneath his frayed coat. Once the medication had been securely tucked between the cracked leather and his trousers, the initial shock of what occurred began to fade from Remi's mind. She'd taken down a heavily radiated Ghoul and with a gun, amazingly. The memory of repeatedly pulling the trigger made her mouth run dry, but it wasn't what took up most of her brain capacity. It was the fact that once the echoed ringing from the gunshot subsided in her ears, she had listened for the rain she had heard just moments before she had forced bullets from the weapon.

Silence met her. The rain had fled as quickly as it came. 

Grunting, MacCready yanked the doors open and cringed at the ear-piercing squeak of the metal. All around them, darkness lingered. The shadowed mounds of Ghouls lay still, though a nagging voice in the back of Remi's mind doubted some of them were truly dead. A thought struck her then, like a slap to the face: upon approaching Med-Tek, MacCready had only taken down a single Ghoul.

“I don't like this,” MacCready murmured, leading Remi to wonder if they shared the same thought. “We should find somewhere to camp out until morning comes.” 

Mildly disappointed, Remi nodded in agreement and reached up to rub at a sore spot on her shoulder. “I'm exhausted. A bed sounds even better than food right now.”

A chuckle rose goosebumps on her arms. “Who are you and what have you done with my Remi?”

_My Remi._

MacCready took the lead, crossing the damaged road and headed for the cluster of hills on the other side. With every gunshot that bounced off the buildings, Remi winced. It was impossible to tell where the noise was coming from, or where the two were going. Still, she followed. She trusted MacCready. He knew the world better than she did, it seemed. 

“So, which parent do you look like?” came MacCready's hushed inquiry. The sound of his voice startled Remi; she had been concentrated on keeping a keen eye on their surroundings. “I've always thought I looked more like my old man, even though I have no clue what he looks like. If I looked like my mom, well, I feel a little bad for how ugly she must've been.”

Remi's delicate hand collided with his forearm. “Don't talk about dead people or yourself like that,” she scolded harshly. She drew in a breath. “My mom always said I looked more like her, but I never saw it.”

For a moment, Remi could have sworn MacCready's eyes had traced her up and down, but the night had tricks up its sleeve.

He said nothing more for the time being, which allowed her mind to roam. It had been such a long time since she thought of her mother. Remi tried to picture her face with the freckled, turned-up nose she passed down to her daughter. A blank slate appeared behind her eyes, then suddenly, there was a gust of wind and the sight of golden locks flowing along with it. 

Remi lifted a hand to touch her own hair – splitting image in color, but lacking in length. “I think I'm going to grow out my hair,” she blurted, a hard lump gathering in her throat. 

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the feel of MacCready's fingers tangling themselves at the end of her mane. “You'll look beautiful either wa--”

Remi shrieked as his fingers gripped the strands and yanked her downward. MacCready's free hand clamped over her mouth, hushing her as he dropped down next to her. There was a stinging pain on her ear and a warmth that seeped down her cheek and onto her neck. Hands trembling, she touched her ear and the blood, and the empty space of missing cartilage. Panic surged through her, quickening her breaths. 

In the blink of an eye, MacCready was grabbing for his gun and her face simultaneously. His hand cupped her quivering chin and turned her head to look at him. “Remi,” he hissed urgently. She couldn't focus; her vision had been blurred by a veil of tears. “Remi! Remi, _look_ at me!”

Her clouded eyes wavered up to meet his. “I-I...I...”

MacCready spoke rapidly as he peered through the scope of his gun. “Stay here and stay down. I'm going to go find a way around this place, okay? Don't move unless I tell you.”

Remi's body couldn't keep up. MacCready hopped to his feet and dashed from the safety of the hill, leaving the girl frantically grasping at the space where he once was. A chorus of gunfire and deep, throaty hollers reverberated from seemingly everywhere. It all gave away the horrifying fact that they weren't up against humans. 

With bile threatening to rise up, Remi touched at her ear once more. The sting had dulled, casting forth a pulsing ache that had synced with her heartbeat. She forced her eyes shut, pushed out the mental image of what her ear must have looked like, and waited. 

For how long she waited, she wasn't sure. The shouts and deafening pops faded, leaving her with the melody of faraway creatures howling against the night, and her own breathing. 

“Where are you?” Remi gasped, her chest tight and constricting. She pulled herself onto her knees and glanced over a jagged boulder. “Damn it, MacCready, where are you?”

Squinting into the darkness, she desperately searched for any shadows that could have resembled MacCready's lanky body. Instead, great machines blocked her view and past those flickered the flames of trashcan fires. MacCready's demand for her to stay hidden flashed through her mind before she skittered to the machines and used them to shield herself. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of a bulky being lumbering across the fires. 

Dread set in as Remi realized that MacCready hadn't returned, but the booming voices still remained. She took a second to rest her forehead against the cool metal of the machine before grabbing her for crowbar and making her way toward an unfinished house foundation. Tools and wood of all different variety lay haphazardly about, making silent traversing a challenge. 

As best she could, Remi tiptoed about, her heart sinking further with each step she took. How in the hell was she supposed to find MacCready in the middle of the completed houses and equipment she'd never seen in her life? Curling her hands around the edge of a long since abandoned car, she considered turning tail and saving her own skin. It made sense. Why should she care what happened to MacCready? People died every day. 

Remi sighed and turned her back to the half-finished neighborhood. 

_My Remi._

She groaned, kicked at an overturned tire, and sucked in a sharp inhale as pain washed over her foot. “Stupid freakin' idiot,” she hissed, unsure if she was directing it toward herself or MacCready. 

As Remi hurried closer toward the houses, dodging every movement she caught in her peripheral, an odd sense of urgency rushed through her. Time ticked away, and yet her body wasn't moving fast enough. The idea that MacCready had already been killed attempted to invade her mind, but she paid no attention to it. Somehow, she knew he was still alive, and she was intent on finding him. 

She paused at a point to take in her surroundings. Massive sacks of rotting meat hung from telephone poles, sharp stakes jutted from the ground, and smears of blood had been painted on the streets and overturned cars. Remi decided she didn't want to know how or why these things were here, but deduced a terrifying fact: Super Mutants roamed this area, and she doubted they'd let her go if they spotted her. 

Her steps fell short as she approached the rear end of what appeared to be a makeshift wooden barrier. Raucous voices sounded between laughter. 

“Ain't got much meat on him,” came the first. “All we get is tiny humans now.”

“I'm still going to eat him,” the other replied. “I'm starving. How long until the water is boiling?”

“Not long now. Won't take long to cook; ain't got much meat on him.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Their footfalls shuffled closer to Remi, who had been trying to catch her breath during their conversation. They'd caught MacCready and were planning on eating him. Doubling over, she nearly heaved, but chose to hide before they caught her too. She retreated to the nearest house on her left and thrust at the door with her shoulder. The rusted hinges cracked, the door collapsed, and Remi tumbled down with it. 

“What's that noise?!” 

“Go look, stupid!”

Remi scrambled up, her eyes darting every which way in search of a place to hide. “Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered. Her gaze settled on another door and her body moved before she could give herself a chance to consider it. 

Practically kicking the door open, Remi bolted from the house and leapt over the frame of what once appeared to be a car. The world around her slowed, blurring in every aspect save for what was right in front of her. Before she could survey the possible hiding places, she found herself directly in the eye of the storm. Metal cages darkened by years of blood splatters hung from high poles covered in barbed wire. Smoke formed around a charred body and danced into the sky. A subtle beeping repeated from somewhere unknown, but Remi assumed it was just her mind adding to the fear. 

She skidded to a stop near the body, her lungs screaming against the idea of running again anytime soon. After a quick seizing up, she let out a wispy sigh. Whoever this poor soul was wasn't MacCready, and Remi wondered if she should've felt remorseful for being relieved of that.

“Another human!”

Every single hair on Remi's body stood straight. Her head whipped to the side just in time to witness a trio of Super Mutants shove each other to be first to get a good shot at her. Heart pounding agonizingly in her chest, she wasted no time breaking into a sprint toward a house in the opposite direction. Empty bags of chips, candy wrappers, and sticky Nuka-Cola bottles littered the floors. Remi bounced around them as she hurried to the kitchen and wrenched open a cabinet underneath a putrid sink.

Seconds ticked by as she huddled in the tiny space. For the first time, Remi couldn't help but feel thankful for her small build; if she were any larger, it would have made for a cramped hiding spot. 

Guttural barking sounded from somewhere outside the cabinet. Remi inched further from the door, covering her mouth and nose with her palm. Every muscle in her body tensed as low growls and staccato sniffing rattled the door. She closed her eyes, undoubtedly sure that this was it. The disgusting mutated Hounds that often patrolled Super Mutant colonies would find her soon and rip her to pieces. She would never find MacCready. He would be left to a fate that nobody deserved. 

Before she could think her actions through, Remi's foot rammed against the door, smacking something solid on the other side. She cringed at the high-pitched whine, but didn't allow herself the chance to stumble. The collision had staggered the Hound, confusing it. Remi kicked at its side, forcing it into a sloppy slump, and plunged the serrated end of her crowbar between its eyes. 

The creature began to let out a pathetic howl, but Remi cut it short with a quick stomp to its grotesque, slobbering mouth. In a building pool of its own blood, the Hound lay still, its beady eyes staring straight ahead. Remi yanked her weapon from its corpse and fled the house, immediately forgetting about the beast and what she had just done. 

MacCready took control of her thoughts as she stepped back into the rancid outside air. His face twisted in agony, his skin melting in the boiling water, his voice never again saying her name. Remi's gaze darted about at all the houses that seemed to take on a replicated image of each other. Her hands found her hair and gripped hard. A shriek of frustration and horror slipped through her clenched teeth. 

It was all too much. Too much. 

_My Remi._

Her eyes snapped open, her hands fell to her side. 

“Let go of me, you ugly bastards!”

Remi, her eyes fixated on the pair of Super Mutants carrying MacCready's flailing body, reached toward her hip. The pistol she'd used to take down the Ghoul back at Med-Tek had remained bound to her. Expecting the same sort of adrenaline to pump through her body at the mere touch of it, she lifted the weapon as MacCready had taught her, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. 

It simply clicked. She'd wasted all the bullets trying to save his life before. Cursing, she launched the gun over her head and toward the Mutants. It bounced off off the one closest to her and brought them to a halt. Remi reached for a rock at her feet and repeated her action, grimacing as she watched it land a few feet from them. The Mutants burst into grating laughter. 

“Where did you learn to throw?” teased the smaller of the two. 

MacCready's head turned in her direction. Eyes widening, his mouth dropped as he realized who had distracted his captors. “Remi! Get out of here! Go! Run!” With his hands restrained behind his back, he struggled against the Mutants. 

“ _Remi?_ ” sneered the other beast, grunting as another rock hit his arm. “Stupid name for a stupid human!”

An idiotic grin spread across Remi's face as the final rock sent them into a frenzy. They roared in agitation, dropping MacCready roughly onto the ground, and began their murderous stride toward her. 

Knowing she had little time to waste, Remi turned on her heel and took off into the house behind her. She sprinted through the broken door, past the Hound's body, and hopped through the bay window in what she assumed was once a dining room. Her lungs burned as she circled the exterior of the house, but she pushed through it and rushed to MacCready's side. 

“There's a pocketknife on my hip,” he told her breathlessly, jutting his chin toward his waist. “Cut the ropes on my – Whoa, Remi! Watch where those hands are going! We'll save that for--”

Absolutely infuriated, Remi's fingers curled around the collar of his coat. “You really think,” she growled, her face crimson, “that I would barely touch the spot where your dick is at a time like this on purpose?” Her grip tightened. “Get your head out of the fucking gutter!”

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry!”

While Remi filed away at MacCready's rope bindings, she blinked back tears. “I'm never going outside during the night again,” she decided. 

MacCready swallowed. “That's what I've been saying all along, but does anyone listen to me? No.” His shifted his weight. “Look, Remi, I know you're trying as hard as you can, but can you hurry up? I'm pretty sure dumb and dumber over there are starting to notice--”

“Done.” Remi hoisted MacCready onto his feet, a deep scowl etched onto her face. “Let's go.”

“But my gun is--”

“We'll get you another one!”

(~)

The silence ate away at her, coiling her insides with a sinking pain she hadn't felt in years. Remi sat on the filthy mattress, hugging her knees to her chest as she listened to the occasional sharp exhales coming from the other side of the grocery store office. Tears threatened to fall, but she refused to let them.

“You never realize how bad ropes can hurt until they rub back and forth on your skin for so long,” MacCready commented with a smirk. Huddled over a chipped wooden table, he applied the mystery healing cream to the rope burns marks on his wrists. “Your ear looks better.”

Remi glared at him, suddenly craving both a pack of cigarettes and more relief from the cream. He had doused her ear with it once they were securely locked away in the office, but the pain had returned. She constantly fought the urge to scratch at the wound, although she refused to ask him for another dollop. 

“Thanks for saving my butt back there,” MacCready went on. “You're pretty good a being a distrac...tion. What's with the long face?”

She hadn't noticed her gaze trail toward her; she'd been too focused on enviously watching him rub the cream onto his damaged skin. “You almost died,” she stated flatly, “again.”

“Yeah, well, it happens. I'm just glad you were there.”

Her hands balled into fists. “But what if I wasn't, MacCready? Wh-What if it was just you and that Ghoul? It could have ripped your throat out! A-And those Mutants could have boiled you alive!” Speaking of it made her stomach churn. “You're acting like it's no big deal!”

Bewilderment settling onto his face, MacCready simply stared at her until he decided to place the black tube onto the table and make his way over to her. He knelt in front of her and she wished she could melt into the wall. “Remi,” he started with a sigh, “everyone will die someday. You, me, everyone.”

Remi rolled her eyes as she shoved him back onto the mattress and stood up. “You think I don't know that?” Her voice came out thick. To mask a sniffle, she kicked a can across the room. “I know that better than most people. I-I just...I don't want you to die. I don't want to lose you, too.”

Her restless hands landed on a radio that she was certain was broken. Aside from the mattress and the partially dissolved candle on the table, it was one of the first things she noticed about the office MacCready had decided to wait out the night in. Densely, she fiddled with the knobs and buttons, expectantly staring at the cracked, dark screen on its surface. 

“If you died,” Remi continued after taking a moment to gather her thoughts, “Duncan wouldn't get the medicine. Everything we went through would've been a waste. I would've been screwed. I would've been left alone again, just like...just like when Mom died.”

She wasn't aware of the fact that MacCready had rolled back on his heels and stood up. Long, slender fingers took hold of hers, placing a cigarette into her hand. Remi lit it with the flame of the candle and closed her eyes in relief as the smoke poured into her lungs. It felt as if years had passed since she last tasted one.

“Where'd you find these?” she questioned as MacCready lit one of his own. 

“Stole it,” he admitted, taking a seat in one of the metal folding chairs. It creaked against his weight. “What happened to your mom?”

He waved his hand toward another chair opposite of his. Remi sat without protest; her feet were throbbing. At first, she hesitated, savoring the cigarette and curiously watching as MacCready began to tinker with the radio. Then, he glanced up at her, wordlessly telling her to talk. 

“It was Super Mutants,” Remi finally said. “We were on our way back to Diamond City when...when we heard this beeping. I didn't know what it was at the time, but Mom did. She made me hide in a Dumpster and told me to stay put and stay safe. Then, I heard her yelling and...a-and there was an explosion.”

She wiped at a tear before it could trickle down her cheek. 

“I stayed in that Dumpster for two days. When I got out to look for her, I could only find part of her face.” 

She cleared her throat twice. 

“A girl I know, Piper, found me that day and took me back to Diamond City. That was seven years ago.”

A bitter smile spread on the sides the cigarette hanging loosely from MacCready's mouth. “Piper,” he breathed, setting aside a wire he'd ripped out of the radio. “Everyone's pen-and-paper hero. What about your dad?”

Remi took an extensive drag on her cigarette. “Never met him. He died before I was born.”

“Your mom didn't tell you any stories?”

Sweat began to gather on her palms. “Just that he was from New Reno, drifted down to New Vegas, got caught up in gambling debts, and ended up here somehow.”

“How'd they meet?”

“I-I think they worked together for a time.”

“You think?”

Remi scoffed and took a final inhale from the cigarette before smashing it on the concrete floor. “Look, I don't know, okay? Mom hardly talked about him and most of the time, I forgot I even had another parent,” she snapped, already craving another stick of tobacco.

MacCready didn't look up from the radio. “All right, sorry. I'm just trying to get to know you better.”

She decided to keep her mouth shut for the time being, wishing he had wanted to get to know her better in different ways, like trying to find out what her favorite color was. Deep down, she felt a tad guilty. Remi could easily trust him with her life, but trusting him with information left her undecided. People could perform great and terrible acts with information. 

“Where are we going?” she asked after a stretch of too much quiet. 

“To Goodneighbor. Daisy will make sure Duncan gets the medicine.”

“And then what?”

MacCready's eyes flashed up to meet hers and he dropped his crunched cigarette butt onto the floor. He leaned back in the chair, his spine popping. “What do you mean?”

Remi pursed her lips, growing more and more annoyed with their conversation with each passing word. It was like going in circles with him. “What are you going to do? Where are you going to go?”

“Do you know how to dance?”

“I – What? No, why?”

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grinned in satisfaction, turning a knob on the radio. There was a muffled _pop_ , and then a soft concluding melody of a song Remi had never heard before. She couldn't help but mimic his expression as the beloved voice of Travis filled her ears, giving insight to the song. 

“How'd you get it working?” she questioned in pure awe. 

MacCready lifted his hands, moving his fingers about dramatically. “Magic touch.”

As if Travis' squeaking voice held magic of its own, Remi's spirits soared as she listened to his words. “Back when I lived in Diamond City, I had the hugest crush on that guy,” she confessed. “Turns out, he's not really my type.”

“You have a type?” MacCready inquired, propping his elbow on the table. 

“Yeah: men who don't run away at the sight of me.”

MacCready opened his mouth to probably shoot back a witty retort, but Travis distracted him. “Um, well h-here's The Ink Spots with, um, another song. I-I think it's overplayed, but you guys like it...I guess. So, here you go.”

“ _I don't ever care to rise to power. I would rather be with you an hour._ ” 

The groan of the chair sliding against the floor brought Remi's attention to her handy companion. He towered over her, looking particularly playful from this angle, and informed her, “This is a really good song.”

“Th-That's nice.”

He held out his hand to her and chuckled as she squirmed in her seat. “I don't bite.”

“And I don't dance.”

MacCready wasn't taking that for an answer. Before she had the chance to hide her hands by sitting on them, he swiftly grabbed onto them and gingerly pulled her from the chair, ignoring her grunts of protest. 

“ _In my heart, I have but one desire. And that one is you, no other will do._ ”

“MacCready!” Remi yelped as he pulled her into his chest. Her face felt as if it were on fire. Instead of pushing herself from him, however, she stayed in place, following his slow side-to-side rocking. Not exactly dancing, she figured, but close enough. Besides, she no longer had the energy to fight him. 

“Lucy used to force me to dance with her,” MacCready murmured near her ear as his left hand rested on the small of her back. She almost shivered at his touch. “I used to hate it, but I realized how relaxing just moving like this is.”

He was right about that: it definitely calmed Remi down. She placed her head against his shoulder, her nose barely touching the crook of his neck. His hand gave hers a soft squeeze. “Just don't drop me into any dips,” she warned. “Unlike you, I do bite.”

MacCready's short laugh brought a smirk to her lips. “Wouldn't even dream of it.”

An odd sensation flowed through Remi. She'd felt it a few times before. Once, when she thought she was in love with Travis, and again when MacCready nearly jumped for joy at finding Duncan's medicine. Her heart pattered against her chest, her tongue dried, and her stomach fluttered. 

“Can I stay with you?” she whispered. 

“Stay with me?”

Remi leaned back to look at his face, at the red tint to his cheeks. “After we get the medicine to Daisy, can I keep traveling with you?”

“ _I don't want to set the world on fire._ ”

Lips twitching in an effort to fight another grin, MacCready placed his forehead against hers. “Funny how that works out. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“ _I just want to start a flame in your heart._ ”


	14. Promises Made Unspoken

Goodneighbor welcomed the two with its usual creak of the wooden gate, the drug-hazed glare from loiterers, and an even larger amount of trash piling up in the nooks and crannies of the streets. By the time they arrived, the sun had already balanced itself directly above them. The town, with its homeless and steady stream of cartels coming and going, appeared to be busier than they expected. 

“Smell that?” MacCready asked happily, taking in a heavy breath through his nose. 

Remi sniffed and arched a brow. “The urine?”

“Yes, the urine,” he replied dryly. “No! That's the smell of making it back alive yet again!”

Through the window of her shop, Daisy's beady eyes settled on them. She called out, waving them over impatiently. “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” she remarked as the pair rushed to her. Before anything else, she took notice of the broad grin stretching across MacCready's face. “What did you get into this time?”

MacCready had begun his gleeful announcement before the Ghoul had finished speaking. “I got it, Daisy. I found the cure to Duncan's disease.” He leaned over the counter that separated them, holding the capsule between his thumb and middle finger. 

“Oh my God,” Daisy whispered, the wrinkled flesh where her eyebrows once were lifting. “That's wonderful news! How'd you do it? Last time you tried, the ferals almost chewed you to bits.”

She turned her attention to Remi and studied her. Under Daisy's scrutiny, Remi shrunk in on herself, clasping her hands together in front of her waist. The woman intimidated her and she couldn't seem to put her finger on the reason why. 

“I didn't do it alone,” MacCready explained. “As it turns out, Remi has a knack for saving my butt.”

Remi could've sworn she saw the edges of Daisy's lips tug into something that might have been a smile. “Is that so?” came the gravelly voice. “Maybe you're not as helpless as you look.”

“Thank you?” Remi answered, unsure if it was meant as a compliment or an insult. Either way, a warmth began to form inside her belly. 

Daisy held out a creased hand to MacCready, who gingerly placed the cure into her palm. “All that trouble you've been through was for this,” she mused as she lifted it to her face to inspect it. “It looks less...complicated than I expected.”

Remi, unable to hide her smile at the way MacCready's eyes glistened with a childlike excitement, asked, “You can get it to Duncan, right?”

“Of course. After everything MacCready has done for me, it's the least I can do.” Reaching underneath the counter, Daisy provided a dented, orange metal box and cautiously placed the capsule into it. “I'll get the sample on the first caravan leaving the Commonwealth. The driver owes me a few favors, and he's reliable.” She glanced toward the mercenary. “It will arrive at your homestead in no time, MacCready.”

“Thanks,” MacCready replied, almost breathlessly. “You're a doll.”

He and Remi turned to leave, but a firm grip on Remi's wrist halted her in place. Turning her head, she came only inches from Daisy's face. The two jet black eyes pierced hers, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of anxiety. When Daisy spoke, Remi could almost taste the lingering whiskey on her tongue. 

“You take care of MacCready, do you understand me?” Daisy said, a hint of danger tracing her words. “He's one of the good guys, and well” – her eyes flashed upward toward the man of subject, then back down to Remi – “he finally looks happy. You hurt him, and I'll destroy you.” As if the warning had never happened, she gave the blonde a quick pat on the head. “Come see me later if that ear of yours starts to give you any trouble.”

With a slight tremble, Remi nodded and retreated to MacCready's side. When he asked what Daisy had said, Remi simply shook her head and replied, “She was just wondering what had happened to my ear.” She forced out a wispy laugh. “I told her you got hungry.”

(~)

“What the absolute fuck?”

MacCready's hand tightened around the broken doorknob as Remi stepped through the threshold of his home. The furniture had been overturned, holes had been punched through the walls, and the windows had been shattered, leaving a mess of broken glass shards at every step. They crunched underneath her shoes, and she hoped an especially sharp piece wouldn't pierce the rubber that guarded her feet. 

Remi whipped around to face her companion, anger lashing through her. “Who the fuck did this?!” she hissed through a tight jaw. 

To her surprise, MacCready seemed hardly shocked. His tired eyes scanned the wreckage, his hand dropped from the knob. “We can't stay here,” he decided calmly. 

“Well, obviously. The place is trashed. Looks like whoever did this tried to light your bed on fire.”

As if something had kicked him into gear, MacCready shuffled his way past Remi, holding onto her forearms to steady himself as he stepped over what was left of the fridge. He huddled near the corner of the room where the toys had once been and fiddled with a rusted box she hadn't noticed before. At first glance, it was camouflaged with the rest of the debris. 

She totted closer, standing on her toes to peer over his shoulder. MacCready opened the box, revealing crumpled papers and mashed cigarette butts. The musty scent instantly began to permeate about the room. “It's still here,” he murmured to himself, wrapping his fingers around the wooden figure that Remi had completely forgotten about. It felt as if years had passed since the last time she saw the thing. 

“That's what you're worried about?” she questioned incredulously. “A toy?”

Quick as lightening, MacCready turned to her, his eyes squinting into a fierce glower. “It isn't a toy, Remi,” he spat. Every ounce of the exhilaration that had filled his body before they entered his home had disappeared in a matter of seconds. Remi flinched away from his tone, confused beyond all hell. A toy – a wooden man – was what worried him? Not the state of his house?

“Okay,” she muttered, making room for him as he clambered toward the door. “My bad.”

“We can't stay here,” MacCready said once more, “in Goodneighbor.”

Remi's eyes traced his features, from the way his brows knit together, forming a crease between them, to the deep frown his lips had fallen into. Something was up, but she didn't dare question him about it now. He was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. So, she simply nodded and took his hand as he held it out to her, whispering a soft, “Okay.”

MacCready's thoughts were already five steps ahead of her inquiries. Just as she opened her mouth to ask where they were going to go, he announced, “We'll spend a night at the Rexford” – his gaze flicked toward the neon sign that read _Hotel Rexford_ – “and then we'll go for the coast.”

Remi gasped, nearly choking on her own saliva. “The coast? Why? And why aren't you pissed about your place? That was your home!” Her words began to seep with annoyance. Things weren't adding up, and the more questions she asked, the more popped into her mind. 

Sighing, MacCready's tone gave away that he was just as irritated with her questions as she was with his nonchalance. “It was a place I lived in for a few months,” he corrected, holding the door to the hotel open for her. “A roof over my head – nothing more.”

Remi had never been inside a hotel before. Sure, the Dugout Inn was practically the same thing, but the two establishments held a world of difference. She surveyed the interior as they walked into the lobby, her attention glued mainly to the glistening chandelier hanging from the massive ceiling. Although it was caked with dirt and dust, Remi couldn't remember the last time she'd seen something so beautiful – aside from Nora's face, of course. 

To her right stood a sturdy bar, shelves cluttered with a dozen types of alcohol she'd never heard of. The bartender, a tired-looking woman with an ancient scar across the bridge of her nose, stood behind the counter, absentmindedly wiping a glass with a filthy rag. As if she could sense Remi watching her, she glanced up at the younger girl and offered a weak smile. The act of hospitality faltered when she took notice of who Remi had entered with. Her gaze and smile simultaneously dropped, and she resumed her monotonous duty. 

“Not this again,” Remi heard MacCready mumble. At first, she assumed he was addressing the odd interaction she'd just had, but he stared toward the main desk. 

The receptionist, a heavy scowl written on her face, seemed to be engaged in a quarrel with a man greasier than most people in Goodneighbor. Remi took a step closer, straining her ears to eavesdrop, but it soon became unnecessary; the argument rose in volume, attracting the attention of almost everyone in the room. 

“...go down and do some work?” came the receptionist's voice. From the impatient glow in her words, Remi assumed this wasn't her first time dealing with the subject at hand.

“Being available to the customers is work!” the man retorted, nervously fidgeting with a broken pencil on the desk. “It's not all about cooking chems, Clair.”

Remi's lips twitched into an amused smirk as Clair threw her arms into the air and rolled her eyes into the back of her head. “It's not all about sampling those chems either. Maybe if you stopped using, you could focus.”

“What? Where's the fun in cooking if you ain't using it?”

“My mistake. Move on, Fred. I've got customers.” Her face lit in realization when she saw MacCready. “Look who came to visit!”

Gliding along in his shadow, Remi approached the desk with MacCready. For a moment, her fingers ached to fiddle with the pencil as Fred had. Something about it just seemed so enticing, but she kept her hands at her sides.

“Clair,” MacCready greeted with a charming smile. Remi couldn't take her eyes off it. “As radiant as always.”

A deep crimson crawled its way onto Clair's tanned face. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she purred before sizing up Remi. “Another? Where'd you find this one? She looks less...slutty than the others.”

Something ugly bubbled up inside Remi, but MacCready quickly calmed whatever it was. “This is Remi. She's...” He trailed off, though his stare remained locked on Remi. He seemed lost in his thoughts, as if searching for the right thing to say. Remi, painfully curious, tilted her head to the side. Finally, he turned to Clair and finished his introduction. “She's very special to me.”

Clair's brows raised, as did Remi's. She knew there was something more to her relationship with him, but she hadn't expected him to publicly announce it. “We've been through a lot together,” she added, rousing a chuckle from Clair. 

“Is that so? Well, I can imagine he's dragged you through quite a bit.”

Not so much _dragged_ , Remi thought. More like led her through a few life-and-death situations that she willingly followed him through because the mere idea of venturing forth without him seized her heart. 

She kept that minor detail to herself and shrugged. “I've been through worse.”

“Do you have a room we could take for the night?” MacCready inquired, fishing through his pockets for what little caps he had.

Clair ripped her meticulous gaze from Remi and waved a hand through the air. “You're in luck. I've got one. Put those damn caps away, Robert. You know I wouldn't charge you. Room's on the top floor, last one on the right.”

Placing a hand on the small of Remi's back, MacCready winked and said, “You're so good to me, Clair.”

Remi waited until they were halfway up the stairs and out of earshot to open her mouth. Once she was sure that Clair's demanding eyes were no longer on them, she turned to MacCready and commented, “You seem to have a way with the ladies around here.” The bitter feeling came back with a vengeance, and a snippet of a memory popped into her mind. 

MacCready sprawled out on the torn couch at The Third Rail, a drunken glaze over his eyes. The two naked girls in his arms. Their giggles, the betrayed looks on their faces as Remi stumbled into the room, the horrified look on his. 

Jealousy whipped through her, white-hot and screeching. 

“It isn't what you think,” MacCready assured her as they reached the top of another set of stairs. “I used to work as security at this place. Clair would pay me in booze and an endless amount of favors. And Daisy—”

“What about those girls back at The Third Rail?” Remi couldn't help it; her insides were twisting into tight knots.

“Don't tell me you're jealous.” 

MacCready pushed the door to their room open, revealing a double-mattress bed tucked away in the corner, a worn couch, a writing desk, and a chipped dresser. The windows had been boarded up, leaving the space dark and dismal, save for the light peeking in from the cracks. The two holes in the wall directly above the desk concerned Remi; she hoped whoever was on the other side couldn't see through. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Remi shuffled into the room and leaned against the desk. “I'm not jealous,” she lied. MacCready arched a brow; who was she kidding? She huffed out a great sigh and ran a hand over her face. “Okay, yes. I'm jealous. Happy?”

“No.”

MacCready kicked the door shut with his heel, crossed the room, and curled his palms against her cheeks. Remi's first instinct was to pull away – nobody had ever cradled her face before. She froze, pondering on the soothing feel of his skin against hers. 

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, resting his forehead on hers. 

Remi nearly giggled. From this angle, he looked cross-eyed. “Depends on what it is.”

Never in a million years did she expect kissing to be so gentle, so heart-racing, so terrifying. MacCready's lips formed against hers without warning, soft as if he were worried the act may break her. It did. Something snapped to life inside her. Frantically, she grabbed for his coat, shutting her eyes as she drew him closer. The space between them vanished, yet she felt as if he was still too far away. 

As quickly as it came on, it was over. MacCready pulled away, their noses just barely touching. He spoke quietly and rapidly, like he was telling her a secret that could change the fate of humanity. “You shouldn't be jealous. Since I first saw you in that church, you've been stuck in my head. When I was with those girls at The Third Rail, all I could think about was you and your smile and that fire in your eyes when you're pissed. Lucy was the only other person who had that effect on me. It's been you, Remi. You since day one, it's been you.”

A hard lump gathered in Remi's throat as her hands trailed upward to touch his face. She wordlessly felt the stubble beginning to grow along his jawline, her thumbs tracing his lips. All the while, she watched a fire of his own shimmer in his eyes. Not from anger, but from...from...What exactly was it? Remi had never seen it before. 

Her heart pounded against her chest so forcefully that she feared it would burst from her body. Standing on her toes, she kissed him again, this time sloppy and hungry. She tasted the cigarettes and the snack cake they had shared during their trek to Goodneighbor. Most importantly, she tasted _him._

Remi's fingers found their way underneath his cap and tangled themselves in his hair. With a throaty chuckle tickling their lips, MacCready lifted her onto the desk. Almost immediately, her legs snaked around his waist, guiding him against her. 

Then, a stinging pain seared through Remi's head, starting at her ear. Yelping, she broke the kiss, covering her wound with both hands. “Shit!” she hissed. 

MacCready threw his hands up, his slightly swollen mouth falling open. “I'm so sorry!” he rushed to spout. “I-I didn't mean to touch it!”

Remi gave herself a few seconds to breathe and collect herself before saying anything. “I guess I still need to get used to having half an ear.”

Wincing at the agony in her voice, MacCready examined the side of her head once her hands fell into her lap. “I think you have a little more than half. Maybe we should go see Daisy. That mystery goop can only do so much.”

A certain sort of newfound dread toward the Ghoul latched itself inside Remi, but she knew MacCready was right. Besides, the constant itching of her ear that she'd been ignoring was beginning to become more than she could handle. She groaned and hopped off the desk. “Yeah, okay,” she murmured. “Let's go see what kind of Ghoul magic she can work on me.”

By the time they arrived at Daisy's shop, Remi's ear pain had advanced to just short of breaking into tears. She fantasized about ripping the damn thing from her head, though her thoughts were frequently interrupted by MacCready's stream of apologies. 

“Seriously,” she had struggled to reply through gritted teeth, “it's fine. We were both...caught up in the moment.”

Daisy's thin mouth formed into a hard line as soon as saw the pair. She instantly snuffed out her cigarette on the wall, pulled a chair closer to the counter, and patted the seat. “I knew you'd be back. That ear's giving a bit of trouble, ain't it?”

“How'd you know?” Remi asked as she perched herself on the seat and hurried to wipe at an escaped tear. 

MacCready stood off to the side, leaning against the wall and watching intently as Daisy rummaged through her supply. “It's infected,” she informed them gravely. She grunted in satisfaction and held up a syringe. “I could tell from the moment I saw it. You didn't try to fix it yourself, did you?”

Remi and MacCready shared a guilty glance, earning them both a smack upside their heads from Daisy. 

“I hope you've both learned your lesson,” she grumbled, peering at Remi's ear once the attack was over. “What did you put on this?”

“I'd bought this cream from a trader a few days ago,” MacCready explained as he rubbed at his head. “He said it would heal wounds in seconds. Seemed like a good buy.”

Flicking the tip of the needle, Daisy shook her head. “I don't know how you've lasted this long, kid.” Her free hand cupped Remi's chin, steadying the trembling girl. The tears were falling freely now; the pain had tripled since they arrived. It took all Remi had to not cry out. “This is going to pinch,” Daisy warned.

Remi gasped sharply as the needle pricked at her cartilage. Her body jolted, but Daisy held her face securely in place. Nervously, MacCready shot off the wall, his hands twitching at his sides. It only took half a second for the suffering to fade, forcing a moan of relief from the blonde's lips. Once Daisy released her, her head fell back, her eyes closing. 

“Oh, thank God,” she muttered. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to touch where the pain had been, but Daisy quickly slapped it away. 

“Don't even think about it,” she growled. “Are you trying to make it worse? Stimpaks won't heal the hole, but it'll close off the open skin. Don't ruin the process.” 

“Thank you, Daisy,” offered MacCready as he began to take a step closer. “You really saved the day--”

“Daisy! I'm back!”

Time seemed to slow all around them. Three heads turned simultaneously, their attention and thoughts taking off in all different directions. While Daisy raised a hand to greet, Remi's brows knit together in surprise and confusion. MacCready, on the other hand, lunged. 

He grabbed the man by the throat, hurling him onto the ground. Daisy and Remi both rushed to his side, grabbing the mercenary by the arms to yank him off. “Get off me!” MacCready hollered, fighting against them. “He's dangerous!”

Daisy, obviously stronger than Remi, took control and pinned MacCready against the side of the shop. Together they fell into their own argument, Daisy demanding MacCready calm down while he supported his own belief that the man needed to die right then and there, and cursed everything for not having his gun. Remi stood motionless, her eyes locked on the man scrambling onto his feet. 

“It's you,” she whispered, shivering as the hazel eye avoided hers. 

Out of his Raider gear, Hazel Eye looked completely normal. Clad in frayed jeans and a stained white top, he could've blended in with the dirty and starved people of Goodneighbor, but the scene he had just caused made him stick out like a sore thumb. Civilians had slowed their brisk pace to watch. Even the Assaultron who ran the shop next to Daisy's clanked over to see what was going on. 

“You're still with him,” Hazel Eye confirmed, his singular gaze shifting between Remi and MacCready, who had slumped against the wall at Daisy mentioning Hancock getting involved because of the noise. “Why? H-How?”

Remi's mind drifted toward their last meeting back when she and Nora had fended off the ambush on Sanctuary Hills. Questions she didn't have the chance to ask earlier invaded her thoughts, and she found herself moving closer to Hazel Eye. “How do you know Dimitri?” she asked. “Are you working for him?”

MacCready slipped from Daisy's hold the second she let off. He grabbed the pocketknife on his hip and slipped between Remi and Hazel Eye, holding the blade to the Raider's throat with one hand and pushing Remi back with the other. She stumbled slightly, but caught herself before falling. 

“What are you doing here, man?!” MacCready spat, narrowing his eyes. “You'd better start talking or I'll make sure you won't ever be able to again.”

Hazel Eye curled his fingers around MacCready's wrist, staring him down dangerously. “He knows what you did...and haven't done.”

Silence fell over them, save for the whine of a stray dog begging for food from a woman too high to realize the animal was there. MacCready finally lowered the knife, his body rigid. “Why are you here?” he repeated. There was an attempt at a calm tone this time. “You trashed my place, didn't you?”

“No. I-I got here after.”

“How do I know you aren't _lying to me_?!” Again, the blade was against Hazel Eye's throat, this time nicking his skin. A trail of fresh blood cascaded onto the collar of his shirt. “Are you here for her? Why are you here?”

Daisy and Remi both quipped up at the same time. 

“Ethan!”

“What the hell is going on?!” Remi fitted herself between the two men, knocking MacCready's weapon away while Daisy rushed to Hazel Eye – Ethan's – side to inspect the cut. “What are you doing here?” the younger girl demanded to know, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “Why aren't you with your Raider buddies?”

“I don't do that shit anymore,” he retorted bitterly. “Nearly killed me trying to get away from them.” Hesitantly, he lifted the bottom of his shirt, revealing an angry pink ridge in his skin that extended from just below his bellybutton, to the middle of his chest. The scar looked fresh – not even two weeks old, if Remi had to guess. 

She covered her mouth with her hand, taking a step back into MacCready. He gripped onto her arm in an attempt to move her away from Ethan, but she remained in place. “Who did that?”

Covering his body, Ethan scoffed and shrugged past them. He headed for Daisy's shop. “You should know, Remi,” he said. “Dimitri doesn't let one of his go without a price.”

(~)

“We have to leave first thing in the morning.”

“That was my plan all along, Remi.”

In the darkness of the hotel room, Remi and MacCready lay side-by-side on the bed. For an hour, they hadn't said a word. Events of the day still hadn't been fully processed in their minds. Trying to fit in all the details was beginning to give Remi a headache. She flung an arm over her eyes, blocking out the light of the flickering candle. 

“How do you know him?” she asked, peeking out from underneath her elbow. MacCready's eyes were open wide, his stare set on the seemingly unfinished ceiling. 

It took a moment to get an answer, but when it finally did come, it felt distant – incomplete. “I was mixed up with the Gunners for a little while before I met you. Sometimes I'd have to work with Raiders on certain jobs. He was there once.” He scoffed. “Worthless as hell, but his face made a nice shield.” 

“Guess that answers the question about his eye.”

“Guess so.”

Remi expected the quiet to swallow them once more, but MacCready had other plans. Propping himself up on his elbow, he took her face in his hand and turned her head toward himself. He didn't focus on her eyes at first. Her ear took up his attention. Remi could see the smile trying to fight its way through to his lips, which filled her with relief. It must have meant her ear was healing. The pain hadn't come back, but she was expecting it to eventually. 

“You know I would've killed him, right?” MacCready said. “If he tried to touch you, I would've snapped him in two.”

Fighting a grin of her own, Remi placed a hand atop his. “Too bad big, strong Daisy was there to stop you.”

“Pfft. Are you crazy? I _let_ her stop me. I didn't want to accidentally break her, too.”

She couldn't hold back her fit of laughter. “I'm sure.”

MacCready's playful facade fell, his lips tugging down into a frown. “Seriously, I'm not going to let him hurt you. Or anyone, for that matter.” He hesitated, contemplating his next words. “As long as I'm here, nobody is going to hurt you.”

It left Remi speechless, but smothered in her thoughts. Long ago, her mother had told her the exact same thing, and then she wasn't there. Thinking on it, Remi realized it was the moment she picked up the face she loved with all her heart from the cracked road that everything started rolling downhill. The debts left by her parents, the loneliness and hunger, the countless nights cowering in fear. All of it. 

“Don't leave me,” she whispered, lifting her body to bring her face only centimeters from MacCready's. “Please, don't ever leave me.”

He took her that night, with no spoken promises of staying with her, but she knew. He promised her with the way his lips lingered on hers. He promised her with the gasps and the moans he brought forth from her. He promised her with the way he clung to her afterward, as if she would disappear the moment he let go. 

At a point, it had rained. Remi never heard it.


	15. The Holes Of Her Mind

“Why don't you just marry the damn thing already?”

“Marry? This is only our first date.”

Despite her efforts to hide her grin, Remi's lips stretched as she watched MacCready delicately hold his gun as if it were a newborn child. From the moment the smooth-talking Assaultron handed the weapon over – Remi shuddered, thinking back to the odd attempt of flirtation on its part – he'd gazed at it like it would tell him the secrets of the unknown universe. 

She gave him a hefty amount of teasing for it, sure, but she was also a little guilty of occasionally gawking at her own new toy. Before she and MacCready slipped through the threshold between Goodneighbor and the rest of the rotten world, Daisy had rushed to them, stopping them in their tracks with a forceful bark of her voice. “Take care of each other,” the Ghoul had demanded as she slipped a pistol into Remi's palm. Strangely enough, it felt heavier than any other gun she'd held before. “It's rare to find what you two have these days.”

Now, as the pair traversed toward the coast, the gun gently smacked against Remi's hip with each stride. As much as she was grateful that she hadn't had to use it yet, she grew more and more downcast with each step. Where was the fun of having your own gun if you couldn't kill grotesquely mutated creatures with it? 

She sighed and tilted her head back, gazing toward the sky. Almost noon, if she had to guess. She and MacCready had gotten a late start to the day; neither of them wanted to untwine their limbs from each other and roll out of bed. Then, a gunshot had cracked somewhere in Goodneighbor and Remi decided she didn't want to find out where it came from. In a flash, she was up and ready to tackle the day. 

As she crawled over another overturned, rusted car, her mind continued to drift. She wondered why she hadn't heard the rain last night. The evidence that it did indeed happen and she wasn't going crazy was plain to see; brown puddles scattered in every dip and hole in the road. The lingering scent of something sour even filled her nostrils. One simple idea gave her the answer once she thought back to it. 

Wrapped up in MacCready the night before, Remi had felt as though she was losing a sense of control. There were moments when he had paused, chuckled, and smothered her mouth with kisses to quiet her. “These walls are paper thin, Remi. There's literally holes in them,” he had whispered during one attempt to hush her moans and giggles. “Someone's going to hear us.”

For the most part, Remi didn't really care if anyone heard. 

“How do you think that creep got caught up with Daisy?” 

MacCready's voice tore Remi away from her steadily growing dirty thoughts. Her gaze flicked to his, and she asked, “Who?”

“Ethan,” he replied with a hint of annoyance. “What, did you already forget about him?”

“Um, sort of.” Remi's face felt hot, and she couldn't stop imagining the way MacCready's hands could curl around her waist and hold her in place with ease. “Daisy does have a way of picking up stragglers. Maybe he was just in the right place at the right time.”

MacCready didn't seem convinced. He shook his head and held out a hand to help her hop over another puddle. “Or he's been spying on us.”

“I doubt it.”

“Remi, who's Dimitri?”

She should've known that was coming. Running a hand over her face – which she immediately regretting upon seeing just how filthy her hands were – Remi kicked at a tin can and started for an abandoned Raider post. She had come across it during her very first trip to Goodneighbor and found it empty. Nothing had changed since then. The same bodies still hung from catwalks and light posts, and silence still filled the space, save for the obnoxious cawing of a bird. Its singular eye cautiously watched them as they hurried past the makeshift gates and roofing. 

“He's someone who my mom was in debt to,” Remi explained, choosing each word carefully. Just because she opened her legs to MacCready didn't mean she trusted him completely. “That debt fell onto me when she died, and I haven't really been...um, compliant with him.” 

“Interesting,” MacCready commented as he peered through the sights of his gun. Above the ruined shops and apartment buildings, Bunker Hill stood sturdy and proud. “So, how many caps do you owe to this guy?”

Remi had never been very good at adding numbers, so her mind fumbled as she tried to piece together all the skipped payments in her head. “If I did the math right, then I think it's a little over ten thousand by now.”

For a moment, she thought MacCready was going to vomit. He stopped dead in his tracks, inhaled sharply, and began to cough. “Ten _thousand_ caps?!” he managed to choke out. “You've got to be kidding me! Just what in the hell did your mom do to owe him so much?!”

A deep frown formed on Remi's face. She sauntered past him, shoving her hands into her pockets. “She ran away, and she had me.”

MacCready didn't press the matter again, which she was more than relieved for. As they approached Bunker Hill, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had disclosed too much, and it left a festering, angry feeling in her gut. As much as she tried to tell herself that it was fine, that MacCready was trustworthy, she was still fearful. She'd told him more than she had ever told anyone.

The pair agreed not to spend too much time at the marketplace inside Bunker Hill. “Just grab what you think we'll need, and meet me back here,” MacCready told her after being questioned by a trigger-happy blonde woman. “That includes any ammo for your gun, if you can spare the caps.” The final word seemed to roll off his tongue, like he never wanted to say it again around her. 

Remi meandered the area, purely amazed at how smoothly things ran. Nobody bumped into her as she walked past, the shouts and calls of voices around her sounded systematic, and she noticed the pathways that had been formed from years of foot traffic. Between the patches of struggling grass, dirt led the way, branching off at every tiny excuse for a shelter. Unlike Diamond City, there seemed to be a routine, and she liked that.

After too much time, she slipped into the actual monument, its damages sloppily repaired with flimsy wood and duct tape. An unsettling feeling washed over her and when she turned from the cracks and holes in the walls, she saw that five pairs of eyes had locked onto her. The smallest of the bunch, a brunette girl who couldn't have been any older than fourteen, skittered over, a mischievous grin curling the corners of her mouth. 

“Hey, lady,” she greeted with haste. Remi took an inconspicuous step away. “New around here? I could give you a tour for ten caps.” She held out her grimy hands, eagerly waiting for Remi to drop caps into her palms. 

Instead, she scoffed. “Do I look like an idiot to you?” Remi snapped, shoving past her. “Try doing your shit in Diamond City and see if the guards don't throw you out on your ass.”

“Screw you!”

Remi flipped her the bird and casually approached a counter. Arms crossed over her chest, the trader on the other side stared her down, a sharp eyebrow raised. “Most people don't see through Meg's tricks,” she commented, jutting her chin toward the young girl. “You part of a caravan?”

“Just traveling through,” Remi replied as she grabbed for her gun and laid it out on the sticky surface. “Do you have any ammo for this type of gun?”

The trader uncurled her arms and inspected the weapon closely. “Let me go check.” 

Once she was gone, Remi took a seat at one of the stools that had been shoved against the counter. It gave a piercing creak, leaving her to worry that it would crumble against her weight. Minutes passed by with no sign of the trader, but she didn't mind. Having a recess from trekking across the Commonwealth was nice, although they'd hardly made any progress.

A hand slapped against Remi's shoulder, forcing a jolt of surprise and fear to bring her idle body back to life. Quick as lightening, she turned, grabbed a wrist with one hand, and reared her other hand back into a fist. “Whoa, whoa! It's me!”

Absolutely astonished, Remi's fingers released and her hand dropped. “Piper?” she mumbled before hopping off the stool and wrapping her arms around Piper's thin waist. “What are you doing here?!”

Piper chuckled and snaked her own arms around Remi. “Just passing through,” she answered, seemingly shocked by the physical contact. Hugging was the last thing she had expected. “I should be asking you the same thing.” She took the stool next to her friend after the quick embrace and leaned in close. 

“The same as you,” Remi said with a bored shrug. “Just waiting on the lady who runs this shop to come back with ammo.”

Apparently, Piper knew something Remi didn't. She peered toward the door – more like gigantic hole in the wall – that the trader had slipped through, and fought back an entertained laugh. “You do realize she isn't coming back, right?” the writer said. “Merchants around here don't waste their time with people who aren't part of a caravan. For all she knows, you could be a Raider looking to shoot up the place.”

Remi, oddly enough, didn't seem fazed by this. Halfway through Piper's information, her mind had drifted and focused on something new. “How's Ester?” 

Propping her elbow on the counter, Piper cupped her chin with her palm and sighed heavily. “Ester died,” she muttered sadly. “They found her in her home three months ago. According to Darren, she'd been gone for weeks.”

Remi's stomach instantly knotted up, and she gasped as if someone had punched her in the gut. She doubled over, allowing her forehead to rest against the counter. “No,” she moaned, blinking back tears. “This doesn't make sense.”

“Remi, Ester was old. She didn't even remember who Nat was. She--”

“Three months ago,” Remi interrupted, lifting her head and wiping at her eyes. “I haven't been gone for three months. How could she have died three months ago?”

Piper stared at Remi as if she were some sort of creature nobody had ever seen before. “Remi, you've been gone for six months.”

No, Remi decided as she buried her face in her hands. There was no way in hell she'd been gone for six months. She recounted the days, identifying them each by the touch of her fingertips. She'd been away from Diamond City for no more than a month. 

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, and Remi's head began to pound with a vicious headache. 

How could six months have passed? She eyed Piper again, looking for any signs that she was just playing a joke. There were no comical intentions in the bewildered way Piper watched her and asked if she was okay. Before Remi could muster a response, someone cut her off by yelling Piper's name. 

“MacCready?” Piper replied. “What the hell...?” 

Finding this the perfect opportunity to prove she wasn't losing her mind, Remi bolted from the stool and caught MacCready by the arm as he approached them. He let his arm drop to his side halfway through the wave meant for Piper, and turned to his companion curiously. “What's up?”

“How long,” Remi began breathlessly, “has it been since I first found you at The Third Rail?”

His blue pools shot toward the ceiling as he put the pieces together. “Let's see...That was about five or six months ago.”

She couldn't understand why they were both lying to her. What purpose did they have? When did they plan it out? Remi had no answers, and her mind buzzed with a thousand questions. Her lips trembled as she let go of MacCready's arm, giving him full reign to take her seat and fall into a conversation with Piper. Remi watched them silently, at the way Piper immediately grew annoyed and at the way MacCready seemed to take notice to it, but didn't care anyway. 

“I didn't expect to find you both here,” Piper admitted, her narrowed eyes flashing between the two. “Why are you both here... _together?_ ” 

Remi spoke before MacCready had the chance to, trying to forget the odd lapse in time. “We're going to the coast. Then from there...We don't really know.”

Still, Piper eyed them like a hawk, her face changing with every second that passed. Her mouth contorted as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek, her bottom lip found its way into her mouth, and her nose crinkled in a way that Remi was familiar with. She must've caught on to what was going on; she often held that intrigued expression when a rumor was just too juicy to ignore. 

“I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner,” she announced with a surprised laugh. “Remi, how'd you get your hands on enough caps to hire this joker?”

MacCready turned back toward her sharply and inhaled to spout off some sort of defense. “I was saving up,” Remi blurted. She felt the tips of her ears warm as they always did when she lied, and hoped Piper wouldn't notice. “That's part of the reason why I got booted from Diamond City. I was planning on leaving anyway...eventually.” Eventually had come much sooner than she expected, but Remi left that detail out. 

Bouncing from the stool, Piper dusted off her trousers with three quick pats. “Right, well.” She brought her fist to her mouth to stifle a cough. “Good luck with this one, Remi. And...if you ever manage to find yourself back in Diamond City, stop by. Nat really misses you. I do too.”

Remi tried to picture Nat's face, but came up blank. “I'll be sure to do that,” she replied slowly. “I miss you both too.”

Piper shuffled her way past the blonde and slapped a heavy hand on MacCready's shoulder. “Take care of her,” she growled lowly, dangerously. “If I find out something happens to her, I'm coming after you.”

MacCready offered a gentle grin. “Don't worry, Piper. Remi's life comes before my own.”

This brought the woman to a halt. “Strange,” she mumbled curiously. “First you don't automatically try to get me in bed, and now you're saying someone else's life is more important than yours.” She turned to Remi, winked, and began to walk away, throwing a wave over her shoulder. “I like this new you, RJ!”

Remi and MacCready shared a glance. “You didn't...?” Remi started.

“Hell no,” MacCready shot back, slightly bitter. “She always turned me down.”

(~)

Remi was miserable. By the time they decided to stop for the night, her feet ached, her stomach roared, and her skin itched with an irritated burn. She missed Goodneighbor. At least there, she could manage to find shelter that wasn't a house blasted down the middle.

“Not ideal, I know,” MacCready said as they explored the ruins of what could have been the perfect home. “We could fix it up, make it look...y'know, like an actual house.”

Disappointment settling inside her, Remi gazed upon the remaining half of the home. It looked as though a truck had long ago crashed through it and lodged itself within a deep hole in the ground. A tool shed stood nearby, and she had first suggested that they sleep there. They had inspected it for creatures, but decided to avoid it when they found the decaying carcasses of a mother and her three children huddled in the corner. Remi had turned her back to the sight, unwilling to deal with the situation without something in her stomach. 

“Where are we going to go?” Remi demanded to know as she plopped herself down on the front steps of the house. “This is the coast, and unless we're both awesome swimmers or we find a working boat, I'd say this is the end of the line. I don't know how to swim, by the way.”

MacCready sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as her head rested against him. “We'll figure it out in the morning,” he said. “For now, we need to eat. I still have...” He trailed off and fished through his pockets. “...mostly candy, but it's something.”

Together they ate in silence and watched as the sky grew darker and darker before them. The Cotton Candy Bites were flavorless on Remi's tongue, but she continued to absentmindedly place the fluffy substance in her mouth. The thought that six months had passed since she first met MacCready still plagued her mind. It didn't seem possible, and yet both he and Piper insisted on it. 

“I have a question.”

“And I probably have an answer.”

Remi considered her words before letting them loose. “How has it been six months already?” she asked through a mouthful of bland candy. “That doesn't make any sense to me.”

She could feel MacCready's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. “Well,” he began, “I don't really know how to answer that. Time goes. That's just how it works.” 

“But my hair,” she rebutted, touching the dirty strands. “It hasn't grown at all since I met you.” 

“You cut it, remember? Your hair was down to your butt when I found you, and you cut it when I took you to Sanctuary Hills.” He placed his palm against her cheek and turned her head. “Remi, are you okay?”

Remi stared at him for what felt like hours, waiting for him to laugh and admit that he was playing some sort of stupid prank on her, and that Piper had been in on it. That never happened, and the concern continued to grow on his features. “I-I don't...remember that,” she confessed softly, her heart pounding against her chest. “I don't remember cutting my hair.”

“You asked Codsworth to do it.”

“Who's Codsworth?”

MacCready yanked the cotton candy from her grasp and popped it into his mouth. “It isn't screwing with me like it is with you,” he mused, bringing the package closer to his face. “Maybe you're allergic to this stuff.”

Pulling her legs closer, Remi hid her face between them. Her headache was horrible; it felt as if her head was splitting open in four different directions. She still heard the threat of thunder, but as far as she could tell, not a single cloud floated in the sky. 

“You're not doing chems, are you?” MacCready went on. “I mean, I wouldn't be pissed if you were. You just gotta share---”

“I'm not doing chems!” barked Remi as she jumped to her feet. “I-I don't do that shit. I just...I'm not feeling too great right now.” With an exasperated huff, she retreated to the worn and torn mattress they were able to dig up from underneath pieces of a dining table. It smelled rancid, but it beat the cold ground. Another wave of disappointment racked through her when she realized MacCready hadn't followed her. 

In the dark, Remi lay still and stared up at the fragment of the ceiling. It made her feel sick, not remembering even the small act of having her hair cut. She thought back to the day she had stumbled across MacCready snoring away before she took off with his belongings. Long hair would've created a problem, and she would have remembered that it did. She was certain her hair had been cut short before that, just as her mother told her to keep it.

Wait, _had_ she actually told Remi that? 

She groaned and rolled over, shielding her face with her forearm. It was irritating and terrifying. Why couldn't she remember? 

At a point, MacCready had joined her. They wrapped themselves up in each other, speaking no words, but focusing their attention on the rhythmic breathing of the other. Finally, he began to speak, filling her frayed thoughts with beautiful pictures. 

“We could stay here and make it something,” he whispered against her skin. His fingertips trailed up and down her back, rubbing circles and tracing invisible shapes. “We could...we could bring Duncan here, too. Start our own family. Start new lives. We could be happy.” 

It brought forth a new fear – an exciting, tempting fear. Remi would be a horrible mother, and she was well aware of that fact. Still, the idea of having MacCready for the rest of their days filled her with a certain sort of joy she'd never experienced before. It was comforting, and the more she thought of it, the less scary children became. 

Sleep avoided Remi; her brain wouldn't quiet long enough. So, she waited. She waited until she was sure he had fallen asleep before untangling herself from his arms.

She didn't have a destination when she almost toppled down the stairs and crossed the cracked road that separated the ocean from the house. The crisp air didn't bother her until sand formed between her toes and icy water lapped onto her feet. 

Where had her shoes gone?

The headache had subsided, and Remi hadn't heard the thunder in quite some time. She stood ankle-deep in the putrid water, her eyes scanning the faraway flickering lights. Wind muffled her ears, but the snap of a branch behind her came through clear as day. Her hand reached toward her hip, desperately searching for her gun. Empty space met her, and panic tore through her. 

“Who's out there?!” Remi shouted into the darkness, turning in circles. She could hardly make out any of the shadows that seemed to sway before her. None of them looked as though they could have created the sound. “Answer me!”

A voice, deep and intelligible, mumbled something so close to her ear that she could feel the breath on her skin. She whirled around, and a palm struck her face. High-pitched whining filled her ears, and her vision grew hazy. In the distance, she swore she saw two unfamiliar bodies sprinting over, but a boot collided with her face before she could make out who they were. 

The world fell black, and Remi was drowning.


	16. Paradise

The buzzing was already annoying Remi and she'd only been awake for a few moments. Or had she?

She dragged her tired gaze toward the flickering light in the corner of the cracked ceiling and glared at it. For a split second, the light died, taking the buzz with it. The reprieve was short-lived as the light lit once more, blinding her and filling her ears with the noise. Remi groaned and tried to struggle against her bindings again, hoping they may have loosened during her previous panicked trashing. 

Whoever brought her here must have viewed her as a threat – and a deadly one, at that. Bulky chains had been tightened around her ankles, wrists, and stomach. They pinned her down to a creaking hospital gurney, leaving her head as the only movable part of her body. 

There was something familiar about the room Remi woke up in. With rust stained concrete walls and an apparent lack of decor with the exception of a chair, there hardly seemed to be anything special about it. Still, Remi couldn't shake the feeling that she'd been there more than a handful of times. She just couldn't remember when. 

Closing her eyes, Remi tried to shift her focus away from the gnawing hunger in her gut and the piercing headache that seemed to have returned with a vengeance. Her captors had left her with little to no options of objects to guide her attention to, so she focused on the bubbling anger inside herself. 

How dare someone attack her while she was lost in her careless, casual midnight stroll? Then again, how dare she be so forgetful and leave her gun behind? Remi was fully aware that her aim was shit, and she was fully aware that she had better chances of overdosing during her first time taking chems than she did at successfully hitting her attackers, but she could've fired a warning shot for MacCready. 

_MacCready._

A lump lodged itself in Remi's throat. God, she hoped he was alive – that whoever kidnapped her didn't discover him snoring away. Why couldn't she just have stayed where she was, warm and wrapped in his arms? Why'd she have to go sight-seeing? 

Squeaking hinges brought her back to reality. Slow, heavy footfalls muffled the buzzing of the light and her rapid breathing. Then, a face popped into Remi's line of sight, and everything seemed to fall into place. 

“I should've figured you were behind my impromptu vacation,” she spat. “I knew you'd catch up to me eventually, Dimitri.”

Her gaze followed Dimitri as he silently grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to her. Jet black hair cascaded down his back and framed his face in perfect waves. At first, his eyes – a deep jade – avoided hers. He settled himself into the chair with a troubled sigh and finally looked to her. 

“Remi,” came his voice, sweet and thick. Soft, even. “You cut your hair.”

As Remi ignored the goosebumps rising on her arms and legs, and blatantly stared at the scar that ripped across his almost symmetrical face, she thought back to MacCready's words. She _had_ cut her hair...at some point. With the help of whoever Codsworth was. “Yeah, I guess I did.” 

“Short hair suits you.”

Remi said nothing. She knew this trick – this old, tired trick. Dimitri was a gentleman when he needed to be. He could be a multitude of things when he needed to be: a friend, a leader, a murderer. 

“You're probably wondering why you're here,” he went on, stroking his broken goatee. “You've always been a smart one. Sometimes a little too smart for your own good. Have you already figured it out?”

Remi cringed in disgust. Dimitri wasn't anywhere near her age. During his thirty or so years of life (if she had to guess), he had mastered the art of seduction. His charm paired with his velvet voice mixed with his body made for an easy target of affection from both genders, and he used it to his advantage. Remi, however, had been one of the few who could resist. 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Probably because I owe you a shit ton of caps and haven't been making payments?”

Dimitri placed a hand on Remi's head despite her flinch, and began to play with her hair. “If you want something done, you've got to do it yourself.” His words sounded empty, emotionless. “Have you heard that saying before?”

“A couple times, yeah.”

Standing to his feet, Dimitri grasped the chains and fiddled with a part that Remi couldn't see. They loosened around her and she sucked in a breath of relief. Finally, her limbs were free to move and twitch about, and she sat up before Dimitri formed the bright idea to restrain her again. 

He opened the door, filling the room with the awful squeak again, and offered a pleasant grin. Remi's stomach twisted. “You're free to go,” he said as if it had been obvious the entire time. “I wouldn't wander too far, though. Since our last meeting, I've acquired a few more...pets.”

Anything to get away from that irritating buzz, Remi thought as she hopped off the gurney and made her way past Dimitri. He placed his hand on the small of her back as she went, gently urging her into the hallway before them. 

Dimitri's flock of Raiders lined the walls, watching her hungrily. If it hadn't been for the force behind her, she would've turned tail and locked herself back in that boring room. The Raiders chuckled to one another, making comments about her figure and suggesting the horrid things they wanted to do to her. She shuddered at their words, doubting she could survive most of the ideas she heard. There was only so much mutilation the human body could take. 

“Pay no mind to them,” Dimitri purred in her ear. “They're harmless as long as I'm around.”

He led Remi down so many hallways that she was sure she'd get lost if she tried to find her way back. Everything was identical: from the windowless walls, to the sour scent that churned her stomach, to the spying eyes around every corner. Besides Dimitri, it felt as though someone was constantly observing from afar. 

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, Remi.”

“You said I was free to go.”

“ _Patience._ Didn't that whore of a mother teach you anything?”

Remi turned on her heel and inhaled sharply. Before she could utter out a rebuttal, the backside of Dimitri's hand collided with her face. She stumbled sideways, her cheek stinging, and caught herself on the grimy wall. Someone on the other end of the hallway wheezed with laughter. 

“That's all it took?” Dimitri wondered aloud in amazement, inspecting the back of his hand.

Clutching the side of her head, Remi staggered as she pulled herself back onto her feet. “What the hell?” she hissed. “What was that for, you prick?”

Dimitri seemed unfazed by her words. Completely fixated on his hand, he gawked at it as if it were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and as if Remi wasn't standing only a few feet from him. She waited for just a moment, watching his mouth fall slack, and turned to sprint from him. She didn't know in the slightest which door to run through or which hallway to take next, but she figured she'd spark an idea during the process. 

A fist struck the back of her head twice. Once to stun her, sending her crumpling onto her knees. Then once more to grab a fistful of her hair. The buzzing was back in her ears, raising rapidly in pitch. Before long, it had evolved to a jarring screech. 

Humming a jolly tune, Dimitri knelt next to Remi, keeping a forceful hold on her hair. She glared upward at him, trying to figure out which of the doubled clone of him that swayed in her vision was the real one. The tune stopped abruptly and Dimitri sighed.

“I hate to mar this pretty face more than it already has been,” he mused, his eyes straying to her ear, “but it looks like it can't be helped.”

Remi shut her eyes just before his fist slammed against her face.

(~)

The chill of the water roused Remi. She blinked furiously, trying to clear her blurred sight, and attempted to lift her head. It felt agonizingly heavy, like every small movement was pushing a mountain. Another wave of icy water struck her and pulled her away from drifting back to unconsciousness. Anger flaring within her, Remi clenched her jaw and lifted her gaze toward the empty bucket just as it had been dropped to the floor.

“Good morning, sunshine,” came the much too joyous voice. “I didn't think you'd ever wake up.”

Remi could only glare and spit out the first thing that came to her mind: “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” 

Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Sasha smirked and shot back instantly, “Because you think you know everything, which is wrong: you do not. Otherwise, you'd have seen this coming a mile away.”

As much as she wanted to rub it in Sasha's face that yes, Remi actually did see her kidnapping coming, she kept her mouth shut and studied her new surroundings. She'd been restrained to a chair, bound with rough ropes at her wrists. Her shoulders ached at the joints, forcing her to wonder just how long she'd been out. 

Dirty, greasy counter tops and cabinets lined the walls behind and to Remi's left. Blood had stained the floors and walls, leaving streaks and ominous hand prints where others like herself had tried to escape. She doubted they ever had, and in the back of her mind, she knew she'd soon share whatever fate they had succumbed to. Near the closed door in front of her, Sasha leaned against the wall, her back covering one of the prints, and crossed her arms smugly across her chest. 

“You should've seen the look on your face when we knocked you out on that beach,” she said with a giggle. “I honestly thought you'd shit yourself or something.”

Remi rolled her eyes. Nothing but skin and bones, Sasha was less of a threat than a newborn child. “So, what? You converted to the asshole club or something? Did Sanctuary Hills get too scary for you without me there?”

Sasha's breath hitched in her throat. Her cheeks burned crimson, and her hands doubled into fists at her armpits. Still, that irritating smirk remained. “Hardly,” she replied, mimicking Remi's eye roll. “That scared little girl persona was just to get you to trust me.” Remi began to cut her off, to tell her that she trusted her as much as she did Mayor McDonough, but Sasha seemed intent on finishing her words. “Dimitri sent me as a spy once he found out you'd left Diamond City, and once he knew where you were headed. Really, you need to stop letting the enemy sleep so close.”

The door opened beside Sasha and Remi bit back a groan as Dimitri made an appearance. “I heard my name,” he said, cracking a dazzling smile. “Oh, so you two have had a chance to catch up, I hope.”

Sasha, practically melting at the sound of his voice, hooked her fingers around his arm and rested her head against his shoulder. “I was just telling my old roommate here how much of a fucking idiot she is.”

“I'm sure she realizes that now.”

Pulling himself free of Sasha's grasp, Dimitri approached Remi. He stopped right in front of her and waited for her head to fall back and their eyes to meet. A mischievous spark gleamed in his, as if he knew every single one of her secrets. 

“I guess we should let her loose now,” he suggested, craning his neck to look at the ropes at her wrists. “Poor thing is probably starving, and she smells like vomit.”

“Maybe she should've thought about that before she decided to barf all over herself,” Sasha chimed in.

When had that happened? Remi glanced down at the stained shirt she wore. Absolutely no signs that she'd thrown up on herself, and the horrid taste of vomit hadn't settled on her tongue. 

“Go get her cleaned up. I'll deal with her soon.”

Sasha reluctantly tore herself from Dimitri's side and circled around the chair Remi sat in, glowering down at her all the while. In a flash, the ropes dropped onto the ground and Sasha gripped the back of Remi's shirt, pulling her up and urging her toward the door. Fearful flashbacks played through Remi's mind as the door swung open, revealing yet another disgusting hallway. This time, there wasn't an eager Raider party waiting for her. 

They walked in silence. Hallway after hallway, it never seemed to end, until they reached one of the cleanest rooms Remi had seen since her days at Sanctuary Hills. Unlike the rest of the areas she'd been in, the tiled floor was spotless, as well as the matching walls. Stalls, shower heads, and shattered urinals stood against one side of the room, while chairs of all shapes and sizes filled the opposite space. 

“Ugh, hurry up and take that shirt off. I can't deal with the smell anymore.”

Just as Sasha's words came to a stop, a foul scent invaded Remi's nostrils. Perplexed, she tilted her head downward and gasped at the sight of her shirt. Something pink and crusted had been splattered on the fabric, and she knew for a fact it hadn't been there a few moments ago. She rushed to tear the shirt over her head, and hurled it across the room. Sasha raised a brow at the action, shaking her head. 

“A little dramatic, don't you think?” she muttered. “Then again, you were hanging around that one guy forever. Must've rubbed off on you.” She chuckled to herself and sat in one of the chairs, motioning toward one of the shower heads. “Well? We don't have all day.”

At first, Remi stood still, circling her arms around her chest. Sasha, who had taken to inspecting her nails, groaned impatiently and stomped toward her. Although she seemed frail by appearance, she grabbed Remi's forearm with enough force to rouse a surprised jerk from her. Sasha's fingers were set in a deadlock around her skin, and Remi couldn't find enough energy within herself to struggle from her. 

“Don't even try any of that bullshit,” Sasha spat as she dragged Remi toward the showers. “I could take you out in two seconds flat. Get in the damn shower. I promise the water is hot.”

“Like your word means anything.”

With a squeak, the water turned on, prickling against Remi's skin like ice shards. She inhaled sharply, closed her eyes tightly, and waited for the temperature to rise. It never did. 

“You can finish getting naked,” Sasha commented as she returned to the chair. “Don't worry about me ogling you. You don't have anything I want.”

The water, though slightly painful, refreshed Remi's mind for a moment as she rid herself of the rest of her clothes and dipped her head into it. Her ears began to ring and someone whispered harshly in her ear. Whipping around to catch whoever it was, she saw only Sasha sitting across the room, moaning to herself. 

“What did you say?” Remi barked out. 

Sasha threw her a disinterested look. “That you have the body of a twelve-year-old,” she deadpanned. “I didn't say anything, Remi. Hurry up and clean yourself. I'm starting to come down.”

A chill crawled up Remi's spine, and she knew it wasn't from the water. 

“Is there anyone else in here?” she questioned. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was, even as Sasha took a quick peek at their surroundings. 

“Probably not. You done?”

Remi nodded, although she still felt dirty as she turned the water off. She stood still, naked and shivering, and waited to hear the whisper again. All that met her was the drunken laughter of two men in another room, and the dripping water behind her. 

“How did you get running water?” she asked. “Diamond City didn't--”

Some sort of odd hiss of annoyance cut Remi short. Sasha stood, kicked the chair back with her heel, and started for the door. “Nobody cares about Diamond City. And why so many questions?” She scoffed and looked away from Remi. “It's not like it'll matter soon.”

“What'd you say?”

“Nothing. Stay here.”

The door slammed to a shut as Sasha left, leaving Remi alone with her thoughts and the person she was certain was hiding out somewhere nearby. She swallowed whatever was gathering in her throat and backed herself against the wall, her eyes darting every which way. The only place someone could hide would be the stalls, but she had watched Sasha kick in the doors one by one. Her captor's expression hadn't changed as she did so, so Remi had assumed nobody was there. 

“What the hell am I thinking?” she mumbled to herself, her damp feet slapping against the floor as she bustled toward the stalls. 

She knew to expect toilets, more than likely broken, but as she pushed open the metal doors, she found nothing. Absolutely nothing. No destroyed porcelain, no stained concrete at the base, no sign that any sort of plumbing system had ever been installed. Empty space.

“Here. Put these on.”

Remi jolted at the sound of the demanding tone and slammed the stall to her left shut. From across the room, Sasha shot her an odd, intrigued glance, and tossed a bundle of clothing onto the floor before turning and leaving Remi alone once again. From another room came the echoed shriek of a woman, followed by the laughter of men. Remi shivered, goosebumps rising on her arms and legs, and rushed to clothe herself. 

The provided undershirt and overalls fit her snugly, but felt itchy and firm, as if they'd been washed long ago and tossed in a corner to be forgotten. Still, facing whatever was coming for her in something other than her birthday suit gave Remi a short burst of confidence as she slipped through the door Sasha had disappeared behind. Unsurprisingly, Sasha was nowhere to be found as she began her exploration of whatever this place was, and Remi didn't mind that at all. Her bitter feelings toward the girl had only worsened since Sanctuary Hills. 

Through vast hallways and empty common areas, Remi wandered for what felt like hours. Her stomach growled frequently, and she swore if she found a piece of molded food on the ground, it wouldn't stand a chance against her hunger. Every so often, a drunken Raider would stumble past her, sometimes accidentally knocking into her. It was as if she were invisible to them; they simply hiccuped or laughed before continuing their intoxicated journey. 

At a point, Remi began to wonder what time of the day it was, and how many days had passed since she had been captured. The few windows she managed to find had been boarded up so securely that not even a sliver of sunlight could penetrate them. She couldn't find any doors leading outside; just to more rooms that seemed to hold no purpose. 

Frustration ate away at her. She wanted food, a bed, and for shit's sake, someone to acknowledge her. When a Raider with one arm slammed into her while looking the other way, she grabbed onto his shirt and forced him to a stop. 

“Where are we?” Remi asked sharply, curling her nose at the rancid smell that clouded around him. “How do I get out?”

The Raider let out a soft giggle and swung his arm around her shoulders. “Get out?” he slurred. “Why wouldya wanna do that? This is paradise, baby.” Just as Remi started to speak, he shushed her and lifted his pointer finger. “Hear that?” Remi shook her head, her discomfort growing by the second. “They found him.”

“Found who?”

An ear-piercing scream answered her. Her stomach churned, her palms immediately began to sweat. Her feet began to move before her brain could process what she had just heard. Another scream, and her legs moved faster. 

“They're going to skin him!” the Raider called from behind her. “They're going to skin him and we're going to eat him for dinner!”

Remi ignored him, his taunting and his laughter that lingered in her ears. All she could hear was her heart pounding away in every part of her body, and her own voice wailing the same name over and over. 

“MacCready! MacCready! _MacCready!_ ”


	17. Love Long Dead

Remi's throat burned as if acid had been funneled down it. After sprinting until her muscles begged for her to stop, she reached the door that stood between her and MacCready. She threw her body against it, surprised at the weight that met her, and dug her heels against the dingy concrete as she pushed. The door swung open, Remi toppled onto the floor, and a chorus of gruff laughter filled her ears. 

There was no MacCready, she soon realized when she frantically studied the faces. Three men she had never seen before loomed over her, mischievous smirks on their scarred and discolored lips. The shortest of the trio, a round blimp of a man, took a step closer to study Remi's face. Bile began its ascent from her stomach at the putrid odor that cling to his being, but she forced it back with a mighty gulp. She could just barely pick out a single stench in the mixture of what could have only been spoiled meat, rotted corpses, and God only knows what else. 

“Well, would you take a look at this one?” he purred as he hooked his thumbs on the edge of his trousers. 

“Ain't every day that a beautiful blonde babe literally throws herself at us,” another scoffed, his hands twitching closer to his zipper. “What do you say, fellas? We can't disappoint her now, can we?”

Hysteria immediately surged through Remi's veins as she scrambled backward in response to their shrouded threat. She tried to scream and call for help, but as her lips cracked open, all that came were pitiful squeaks. Then, just as she was sure the door behind her was soon approaching, her back slammed against something firm and undeniably organic. A sliver of courage fought through and Remi glanced upward at the faces of her three pursuers. Their cocky demeanor had been shattered and replaced by slack-jawed looks of sheer terror.

Against her better judgment, Remi turned to see who had roused so much fear from three fully grown men. Dimitri craned his neck to watch her, his gaze incredibly dreamy. Remi didn't doubt for a second that he was pumped full of drugs. 

“There you are,” he said as he thrust his hands into Remi's armpits and hoisted her from the ground with ease. “I was worried you'd already left the party.” He took her hand firmly, paying no mind to the company beside them. “I want to show you something.”

Remi yanked her hand from his grasp, wincing at the soft pop in her shoulder, and pressed herself against the nearest wall. An idiotic move, she understood, but it was better than touching Dimitri. There was no telling where his body had been, or who else it had touched. 

“Fuck you,” Remi spat. “I'm not going anywhere with you.”

There was a pause in which Dimitri turned from Remi to the men. With a disinterested shrug, he started back the way he came. “Suit yourself!” he called over his shoulder. “Have fun with your new friends!”

The realization of what was about to happen didn't hit Remi until she felt fingers curl around the curve of her ass. She drew in a sharp breath, whipped around, and acted on ingrained instinct. Her hand doubled into a tight fist, and her knuckles embedded themselves in the nose of whoever had touched her. 

There was an awful _crunch_ , followed by the same scream that had brought Remi to them in the first place. Her stomach lurched again and the throbbing pain in her hand made her knees quiver, but instead of allowing herself to crumple under the pain, she took off after Dimitri, who chuckled in her presence. 

“I knew you'd come running back.”

“I hope you know that I'm getting the hell out of here the first chance I get.”

“Oh, you may want to rethink that, my dear.”

Caressing her hand, Remi jerked as Dimitri placed his own palm between her shoulder blades to guide her to a dead-end in the corridor. A large, blackened sheet of glass faced them, forcing them to see eye-to-eye with their reflections. Remi couldn't stand to look at herself for very long; her hair stuck up in every which way, blood (or vomit – there really was no difference to her anymore) had dried and remained crusted across her chest, and a dark purple kissed the skin around her left eye. 

How in the hell could she have been so battered and bruised already? She swore her hair still felt damp from her shower. 

“How's that hand, gorgeous?”

“Fuckin' hurts.”

Remi grimaced at the high-pitched screech that invaded her hearing as the glass flickered to life. It then served as a window, giving the two of them complete access to see Sasha bound to a chair on the other side. Her wrists and ankles had been duct taped to the chair so tightly that the skin around the adhesive had turned into a swollen contusion. Her clothes were nonexistent, save for a pair of dingy underwear and a bra two sizes too small. Black X's had been drawn in haphazard places on her legs, chest, and stomach. 

Her head hung and swayed slowly from side to side, then suddenly, her neck snapped up and her gaze locked with Remi's. At first, she simply stared as if she were trying to figure out what color Remi's eyes were, and then recognition flashed across her face as she looked to Dimitri. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Before long, her cheeks and throat turned red, and she thrashed about against her bindings. Still, all Remi could hear was Dimitri's amused chuckle. 

“Soundproof glass,” he said, tapping against the it. “It's amazing what science can do these days.”

A gate, one Remi had noticed only a few seconds before it opened, exposed its contents, and Remi's heart dropped at the sight of it. She'd seen Deathclaws before – she'd even managed to escape from one a few years back – but there was something different about this one. It stood proudly on its hind legs, towering so high that its horns poked at the ceiling. Instead of the usual tan or brown color, its skin and protruding bones were jet black and shined against the light as if it had been groomed everyday. 

“Glorious, isn't he?” Dimitri gasped, swinging an arm around Remi's shoulders. Having been completely focused on the beast in front of them, she had forgotten Dimitri was standing next to her. She went rigid at his touch. “Most Deathclaws eat their prey entirely, but not Chester here. No, Chester just likes to kill. He knows to leave the meat for me.”

As she watched Sasha hopelessly and mutely plead for help, Remi tried to look away from the sure mutilation, but for some reason, she couldn't stop watching Chester sniff at the air and stalk closer to his prey. “Three things,” she deadpanned, trying to wiggle herself free from his hold. “First, you picked _Chester_ of all names to give that thing? Second, I thought you and Sasha were bumping uglies. Why are you doing this to her?” 

“Chester is a lovely name for this lovely creature.” 

He didn't even blink as a strip of Sasha's skin smacked against the window and slid down its surface. Remi finally turned her head, unable to watch any longer, and caught sight just in time of a familiar spark in Dimitri's eyes. She'd seen it before in MacCready's, when they'd spent the night wrapped in each other, and when she'd felt a man for the first time. It took everything in her not to shudder. 

“I gave her one task,” Dimitri went on, “and that was to make sure she knew where you were at all times. She failed, and here we are.”

It wasn't the fact that Sasha was literally being torn to shreds on the other side of a piece of glass that made Remi's skin crawl and urged her to avert her gaze from the carnage. It was the fact that it was happening over such a trivial error. How in the hell could so many others survive under Dimtri's iron fist? 

“Next.”

“Huh?”

“Next. You said you had three things. So far, you've given me two, unless you've lied to me.”

Remi's mouth took off before she could fully commit herself to the mental image of herself trapped in Sasha's place. “There is a third thing!” she exclaimed, flicking her hand toward the window. “You said that that...thing--”

“ _Chester._ ” 

“...that _Chester_ leaves the meat for you. What do you do with it?”

Dimitri hesitated, taking nearly five minutes before speaking again. “Remi,” he whispered, his tone no longer condescending and dangerous. Instead, he sounded anxious – paranoid. “Do you...Do you know of the creatures under our skin?” 

Arching a brow, Remi pulled away, creating a split of space between them. “What're you talking about?” 

Dimitri's arm slid off her shoulders and swung back and forth at his side before he turned back to the window. A still-bleeding pile of raw meat and broken bones sat where Sasha once was. If she didn't know any better, Remi wouldn't have been able to guess who it had been. She couldn't bare to look at it any longer, and focused on Dimitri's twisted face. His cocky smile had dropped into a dark scowl, and his eyes narrowed toward the floor. 

“The creatures, they...th-they eat away at us until there's nothing left. We become fragile, wrinkled, and paper-thin. Our hair turns white and our fingernails...” Dimitri lifted his hands to his face, curling his fingers to inspect his nails. “Yellow. Then they take our brains. Our memory will go, and before long, we won't be able to tell ourselves apart from good old Chester here. We have them, you and I. We all do. And the only way to keep ourselves from such a fate is to feed them...to feed them...” 

He stopped then, and lifted his gaze. A dismal smile tugged at his lips as he watched Chester lumber back through the gate. Remi took a step away, her mind buzzing and her vision hazy. 

“You...You eat human meat.”

It didn't take anything more than a fleeting glance to confirm Remi's worst case scenario. There was no time to prepare herself. She turned, fell to her knees, and retched as bile shot up through her throat and landed on her chest.

(~)

Sasha's screams kept Remi awake that night. She'd never heard the sound before, but every time she began to drift off, the shrill shriek echoed in her ears and her eyes snapped open. Perched on a lopsided shelf above Remi's head, the half melted candle supported a flame that made a warm orange glow dance on the ceiling for her.

She sat up and ran a hand through her hair. A sharp pain twinged in her neck; the pillow they supplied her with felt like rocks. The bed also did her no favors. A simple mattress tucked away in the corner of the room, its springs stuck out like rusted knives and the fabric gave off a smell that made her crave both cigarettes and the taste of MacCready's lips. 

Thinking of him now squeezed at her heart and disturbed her stomach again. Pushing out a heavy breath, Remi hugged her knees to her chest and dropped her forehead onto them. So much had happened in such a short amount of time that she hadn't stolen a moment to invite him into her mind. But now as she lie in the darkness and the silence, she couldn't get him out. 

MacCready had a better chance at surviving against a group of cannibalistic Raiders – he could at least shoot a gun and hit what he aimed for. The glimmer of hope that burned inside Remi was short lived as she came to the understanding that his mouth would be the reason he'd end up with a bullet to the brain. For a split second, she thought she would vomit again. 

“So stupid,” she hissed, blinking back a rush of tears. “Stop being so fucking stupid.”

The chances of Remi being used as a side dish were high, and here she was worrying about someone who was more than capable of keeping himself alive against the dangers of the wicked world. Wiping at her eyes, she pushed herself from her bed and started for the headed door tucked away in the corner of the room. Maybe if she rammed it hard enough, something would rattle and disengage. 

Remi braced herself, tucking one arm beneath the other and squaring her shoulders, and hurled herself at the door. Half a second before she made contact, there was a muffled series of clicks, and the door swung open. With as little grace as before, she tumbled forward, but a grunt and a circle of arms met her this time. 

The enticing smell of cigarettes and gunpowder crawled into her nose, matched with a tender, “Remi...”

It surprised (and embarrassed) Remi at first, how easily it was for MacCready to make her cry. Then, the moment was gone and she couldn't care less. Holding onto his arms for dear life, she scrambled to her feet, unapologetic for the wet spots her tears were leaving on his clothes. She buried her face into his coat, squeezing her eyes shut and thanking whatever gods were out there because he was here, he was alive, and he would always come to her rescue. 

“I love you,” Remi breathed as MacCready took her face in his hands and kissed her like it was the very last time. “I love you, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on my own in the dark. God, what the hell was I thinking? I'm so damn stupid and I'm sorry – and what the hell is he doing here?” 

Peering around MacCready's shoulder, Remi's eyes wavered on Ethan, who awkwardly stood halfway down the hall. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to give off an aloof vibe, and failed miserably. His foot tapped impatiently, his eye gaze darted about rapidly, and a large pocketknife had been attached to his belt. Refusing to acknowledge the two, he hummed softly – a mysterious melody that Remi was positive she had heard before. 

“He helped me find you,” MacCready answered tiredly, keeping a firm hold on Remi's slightly trembling body. “Look, it's a real long stor--”

Throwing his arms into the air, Ethan rolled his eye and spouted, “Sasha followed you guys into Goodneighbor and I caught her, interrogated her, and figured out her plans. Then, I followed you to warn you, but Sasha beat me to the punch. So, I told string bean over there and I knew Dimitri would bring you here, and so here we all are.” 

“Why would you even _want_ to help me?”

Ethan paused before drawing in a deep breath. “Because,” he said, avoiding her demanding stare, “you saved my life twice, and you never tried to kill me.”

Images of Remi's first meeting with Ethan flashed through her mind. She'd just been evicted from Diamond City, she was tracking down MacCready, and a crazed druggie was holding a shotgun to her belly. 

“I only saved your life once,” Remi replied, referring to the attempted Raider attack on Sanctuary Hills. She knew she should have just dropped the subject and ran, but there was just something too gratifying about arguing with him. 

“Not true. After you spared me the first time, you did it again by giving me the smallest bit of hope that maybe I wouldn't have to hang around these nut-jobs to get by in the world. I figured that if the daughter of two Raiders could make it through life without being drugged up, then I can do it.”

Remi's vision blurred. She looked sideways at MacCready, anxious of his reaction to the news, but saw nothing except an alert, concentrated expression. For the first time in her life, Remi was grateful that he wasn't paying attention to her at the moment. A grinding noise bounced off the walls. Ethan twitched, his hand reaching for the knife.

“Okay, we have her. Can we get the hell out of here? I'd rather not be seen.”

“Are you okay to run?” MacCready asked, brushing a stray clump of sweaty hair from Remi's face. 

She nodded and flashed him a weary smile. “I'm a little beat up, not crippled.”

Without another word, they took off down the hall with Ethan in the lead. He tore around corners sloppily, often knocking into crates and walls as he led them through a complex maze of hallways. It seemed almost inhuman that he could have remembered the path to the exit. He was confident in his direction, until a dead-end met the trio. They came to a sudden halt, and Remi came much too close to ramming into Ethan's back. 

“Th-They changed it,” he stammered, his hands pressing against various parts of the wall directly in front of them. “There w-was a door here a-and it took you all the w-way outside.” 

“Are you kidding me?!” MacCready howled as he grabbed the front of Ethan's shirt. “Why didn't you take us back the way we came?!”

“This way was closer! I-I thought--”

“You _thought?!_ No, you didn't!”

A sharp snap from somewhere down the hallway they came from silenced them simultaneously. The hairs on Remi's arms and legs stood straight, and she had to coerse herself to turn to see what was there. A shroud of darkness faced them and seemed to be creeping closer by the second. Impossible, they collectively knew, but the eyes had great and terrible ways of playing tricks on the mind. 

After a long string of curses, Ethan shook his head and shoved MacCready from him. “We have to get out of here _now._ ”

“You think?” shot back MacCready sardonically. “I was thinking we'd wait a few days and see how everyone feels about it then!”

“Fuck you, man! I was just trying to help save her life!”

“Yeah, real great job you did!”

“STOP!” Remi screamed, her voice cracking mid-word. An echo traveled down the hallway. Both men fell quiet and watched her intently as she ordered harshly, “Either you guys kiss and make the fuck up, or we end up as a chew toys for a Deathclaw!”

Ethan's eye widened. “He still has Chester? I'm surprised he hasn't sacrificed it to the 'creatures under his skin,'” he commented mockingly. 

Huffing in irritation, Remi turned from them and began back down the hall. The two followed in her brisk pace, muttering expletives and promises to end the other's life after this was all over.

Paranoia slowly started to seep in after what felt like half an hour of wandering as Remi registered that there wasn't a single person to be found. It was as if the building had been evacuated in a mad rush; chairs were overturned, broken glass littered the floors, and meals were left partially eaten and still steaming. 

“Where is everyone?” Remi wondered aloud.

Ethan wiped at the sweat on his forehead. “Probably gathering a search party for us.”

They approached a set of metal double doors that looked as though they had been better maintained than all the others. Before Remi could push them open, Ethan made a groan of protest. She stopped, arm outstretched, and glanced back at him. “Look, I don't know where else to go, okay?” she defended as her arm dropped back to her side. “I'm pretty sure we've been in every room in this place at last twice.” 

“I just have a bad feeling about it, that's all. A lot of things look different since I was last here, and something about this way seems eerily familiar. I-I just feel like something bad happened to me in there.”

MacCready dropped the muzzle of his gun, allowing it to swing toward the ground, and took a step closer to Ethan's front side. “How are we supposed to know you aren't just trying to keep us here until we end up going crazy and killing each other, huh? Is this all some part of your elaborate plan?!”

“No! I want to get out of here just as badly as you guys do!”

Deciding it best not to stick around for another childish argument, Remi brushed them off and continued to open the door. It took her a moment to process what exactly she was looking at, but as soon as she did, her body reacted before she could keep up. She turned sharply, only for her escaping efforts to fall short. Two Raiders, clad in their handcrafted armor, stood as a barrier between the trio and their only way back. A deep laugh filled the room. Failing in her try to calm her quivers, Remi turned to face him.

“Oh, this is just too _good!_ ” Dimitri yelled as he stood from behind the desk he sat behind. “My three very best friends came to see me.” He pointed to Ethan. “Traitor.” His finger slid to MacCready. “Con artist.” Then it landed on Remi. “And bitch.” 

Remi readied to bark back some sort of insult, but MacCready cut her off with an abruptly interrupted word of warning. His voice disappeared with a surprised gasp. Remi peered over her shoulder, her breath hitching in her throat at the sight of a gun pressed against the back of MacCready's head. 

“I find this whole thing a little ironic,” Dimitri shared as he sat back down, talking to them as if they'd all been best friends for years. A playful grin formed his words, and he casually lounged in the worn office chair. “You guys came to be her gallant heroes, and now you're all going to die together.” He let out an airy chuckle. “Being with you, Remi, made me think there was a chance I wouldn't have to kill you. Maybe put you to work so you can pay me back for being your parents' daughter. You know, if your father and that whore of a mother of yours hadn't have run away like they did, you wouldn't have been born, and therefore, you wouldn't be in this situation.”

“What?” MacCready whispered from behind Remi, rousing another laugh from Dimitri. Remi's head felt fuzzy; she wished time would stop ticking. 

Dimitri, his eyes alight with excitement, leaned to the side to peer around Remi. “You can't blame her for not sharing that sort of information,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe she was scared you wouldn't want her to spread her legs anymore if you knew her parents were drugged-out Raiders.” 

“Remi?”

She refused to look at him.

“Of course, RJ, you couldn't have known that was born with more chems than you can possibly image in her system. I don't usually tell my hit-men my motives when I hire them to kill someone,” said Dimitri before adding angrily, “and _not_ crawl into bed with the target.”

Remi's mind came to a crashing halt, and then proceeded to wipe itself clean of everything she thought she knew. As she turned her head, she swore she could hear wind whipping in her ears. MacCready caught her eye instantly, his chest heaving with his deep breathing. Biting down on her lower lip, Remi's vision clouded with tears that she didn't have the motivation to blink away. 

“You were hired to kill me?” she whispered. 

“Remi, I-I...I...”

MacCready's answer was cut off by a gunshot right in their ears, then Ethan's muffled voice shouting for them to go. As she obeyed and started for her sprint back down the hallway, Remi pulled her senses together just enough to look back at Dimitri. He had jumped to his feet, his hands hastily grabbing at various parts of his clothes. Another gunshot rang around them, and Remi fumbled slightly as she hopped over the corpse of the Raider at her feet. 

Concentrated entirely on escaping, Remi wouldn't dare to look back. She knew MacCready was following her; his footfalls landed out of sync with hers. She could hear everything, though: the holler of ire because someone's gun had run out of bullets, and the grunts and growls of blunt attacks. More than once, Remi had to wage war with herself: go back and help Ethan, or leave him so she could have a better chance of getting out?

She continued forward, taking doorways that didn't give her a gut feeling of danger. As if it had happened within seconds, the guessing game was over, and they were suddenly standing in the threshold between the rainstorm outside, and the walls Remi had been imprisoned within. She felt as if there was an invisible barrier in front of her, keeping her from standing underneath the droplets. 

“Why didn't you do it?” she questioned, rejecting her temptation to look up at MacCready. “You should've known Dimitri would try to kill you if you didn't, so why?”

“Because,” MacCready said after a loud clap of thunder, “you and Lucy...you have the same eyes.”

Remi tilted her head to see him, broken and defeated. She couldn't bring herself to feel any sort of pity. He chose not to kill her simply because of a genetic trait. Not because he saw anything in her that he could grow to love, but because of something that brought back memories of a love long dead. 

“Oh my God,” Remi muttered, reveling at the relief of closing her eyes. 

“We have to go back and save Ethan,” said MacCready, seemingly eager to get her mind off the fact that she was intended to die by his hands. “If it wasn't for him, I would have never found you.”

Oddly enough, his decision put a bitter poison in Remi's mind. She wanted to ask if he only cared about finding her because he imagined her as Lucy? No, this wasn't about her, and MacCready was right: Ethan had played a major part in saving her life. He didn't deserve the things Dimitri would do to him. 

Remi retraced their steps flawlessly, and suddenly she found herself staring at Ethan's mangled, lifeless body underneath Dimitri's boot. He stood victoriously, but gravely injured. The arrogant grin on his face faltered, and he slouched to cover a gaping and bleeding hole in his chest. 

“I-I...I'll live,” he croaked through a soft wheeze. “That's what...t-the skin creat-tures are for...” He gave a pathetic moan of agony and dipped his head before lifting it again. “They...They repair us, a-and leave scars as...as reminders.”

Side by side, MacCready and Remi stood motionless, speaking together in low, impassive tones. 

“He's going to die,” Remi said, pointing out the obvious. “He's lost it – body and mind.”

“We should just end him now.”

“No.”

MacCready's head whipped to the side as he threw her a demanding stare. “No?”

Dimitri dropped to a knee, his face contorted in misery. A tiny smirk played on Remi's lips. “If we shoot him, it'll be over too soon and he won't suffer.” She brought her hand up to grasp his forearm and met his gaze. “He needs to suffer. And who knows? He could live. The creatures of our skin might be able to save him.”

MacCready looked to Dimitri, trying his damnedest not to laugh. “Yeah,” he replied sarcastically. “Maybe.”

Taking hold of his hand, Remi tugged MacCready away from the scene. “Let's go. We have to get out of here.”

“Good luck!” came Dimitri's shrill call. “I have f-fifty men in this...this place, more th-than willing to kill for me. They're h-hunting you down r-right...now.”

His warning was more than enough to kick the two into high gear. They took off sprinting down the corridor, the sound of a low buzz of voices and barks mixing with their own heavy breathing growing louder by each passing second. There was no hesitation in Remi's choice of doorways; the path to the exit had been mapped out perfectly in her head. 

As they burst from the final door, rain pelted their skin and clothing. Nausea came upon Remi instantly, leaving her mouth dry and her throat tight. Her lungs ached, and breathing become nothing short of a challenge. A raindrop landed on her cheek, just barely grazing her eyelashes, and forced to her blink. MacCready's blurry image had stolen the lead. 

Although everything in her pleaded for her to just stop and give in to whatever a group of fifty Raiders wanted to do to her, Remi pushed on, tailing MacCready closely. Spots flashed across her vision, often sending her tripping over logs and fallen lampposts. Each time, MacCready hustled back to bring her onto her feet again. 

They ran for what could have easily been two hours before finding shelter in an abandoned store. They had been sure that their stalkers had lost their trail long ago, but they still pressed on unrelentingly, never quite satisfied with the distance between them. Still, even shrouded in a desolate town at least ten miles from their starting point, MacCready sat crouched and peeked out the windows though the sights of his gun while Remi paced the floors behind him, soaking wet and shivering. 

MacCready was the first to say anything since their circumvent. “We'll go east,” he suggested. “W-We'll go to New Reno a-and change our names and start whole new lives.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Remi screamed as her pacing came to a stop, earning herself an angry glower from MacCready. “I'm not going anywhere with you! You were going to _kill me_ , MacCready! When exactly were you going to tell me that?!”

Standing upright, MacCready took a step toward her. “And how was I supposed to tie in that fun conversation topic, Remi? I obviously couldn't go through with it, okay? I-I was close, but when I came up behind you in that church and you turned around and looked at me, I just...stopped.”

“Because you were seeing your dead fucking wife!” Her throat burned, and something pricked at her arm.

“No, Remi, that's not--”

“LIAR!”

An ear-piercing crack of thunder paired with Remi's voice forced her to shut her eyes and press her palms to both sides of her head. She felt the ground against her back, but the panic of falling never hit her. Before opening her eyes, she listened to the newfound silence around her. Something in it was missing. She only heard her own staccato breaths. 

Remi sat up drowsily and took in the changed surroundings. The shelves and counters were no longer barren; dozens of identical boxes filled the spaces. Each of them had bold, black handwriting sprawled across their surfaces: **ILLEGAL MATERIAL**. 

One such box had been placed next to her, pulled onto its side, and its contents scattered out around her. Her arm itched, but when she scratched at it, a sharp pain shot up her limb. Bringing her irritated skin closer to her face, Remi inspected the countless red and puffy pinholes that she swore had not been there minutes before. 

Only then did she notice the dried blood crusted to her hands and the rancid smell about the room. She recognized it immediately as her mind pictured the decaying bodies she would sometimes find during her trips into the Commonwealth. Steadily, she stood, and began to add everything up in her head. She was alone, completely dry although the rain persisted outside, and something had died nearby. 

It didn't take Remi very long to find the gun. She picked it up, fitting her hands against the blood that circled around parts of the weapon. Aside from dirt and dust, and trigger remained clean. 

In her peripheral, she could see him lying there motionless in a pool of the same blood that was painted on Remi's palms. She looked at it, and remembered everything: storming away from him, discovering the Psycho Jet, the pinch of the needle, the rush, oh God, the rush...and the light fading from his eyes as she thrust the knife into his skin. He had barely even struggled when she made certain air wasn't reaching his lungs. 

As Remi finally processed what she had done, she crumpled in on herself, dropping the gun as she curled her arms around herself. 

She had killed him. She had killed MacCready.

Turning from the sight, she stumbled back to the spilled box and reached for a syringe. She had to go – to escape. She couldn't be here. 

At the same marred spot on her arm as before, the needle slid into her skin with a push of effort, but its effects didn't come on quickly enough. Remi shrieked, grabbed for another and stuck herself again, repeating the process three or four more times before finally slumping against the wall. A certain sort of comfortable haze began to settle over her, starting at her fingertips and spreading toward her chest. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the wall, and faded out yet again to dream of her own love long dead.

(~)

_“You can't out-master the master, y'know.”_

_A soft, almost melodic thumping sounded near her ears. Rain pattering against the ruins of the roof or her own stubborn heartbeat, Remi couldn't tell. There seemed to be only one thing she was sure of in this moment and that was that he had found her. Within the walls of this sturdy church, the only place she'd ever felt safe, he had found her._

_Damn it all._


End file.
